Bound
by Jav-chan
Summary: It is just a glimpse and he is lost in the torrent of sensations. Sakura/Sasuke
1. The Wedding

**Credit for this fic goes to Suils Saifir for her inspiration with a wonderful Escaflowne ficlet/drabble.**

**Also, this story is rated M for a reason. Proceed at your own risk.**

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**Bound  
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She is draped in shimmering silk and polished gems when she is presented to him. Golden leaves encrusted with rubies are pinned to the tight curls of her pink hair. The gauze that covers her arms and shoulders, like the silk, is dyed in the vibrant crimson, ebony, and ivory colors of his family. Her people are known for the whiteness of their skin, but hers has a shallow cast to it. It makes her seem smaller, and he has the faint impression that it is only her pride that stops her from flinching away when he takes her hand. He ignores the noises from the ceremony as he pulls her to his side. He entwines his callused fingers into the soft twists of her bound curls, his thumb caressing a ruby-encrusted leaf. She seems to withdraw from him even though she remains at his side.

His father, he notes, seems to approve of the possessive way that he holds his new wife, at the way that there is no softness in the way he clutches her.

Her scent, he notes, is sweet, alluring, and enticing. Tonight will be the test to see if the offering of this small country is genuine. It occurs to him that he will not relish the thought of destroying such beauty. Her skin is soft he notices when his thumb brushes against the lobe of her ear, but he makes no further move to pull her closer.

They do not withdraw to his rooms until her family is finally outside of the city gates. Out of the corner of his eye he notices how she discreetly wipes away a tear. If she knows that the oaths she declared during the marriage were pure of intent, then she will need to learn that such a display of emotion is not welcomed by his clan. He waits until his mother gives him a slight nod before taking his bride up to his rooms. Her test will be soon, how she reacts will seal her fate.

Although her profile is stiff and proud, he can feel the faintest trembles as they approach his threshold and he knows that she is afraid.

It irritates him, although he supposes that it is not unwarranted. His people have been slaughtering hers for generations, and he supposes that she feels almost like a sacrifice, akin to a maid being offered to a dragon.

He does not lock the door to his bedchamber. She is, after all, his wife, and quite free to wander where she so chooses. In the solitude of the darkened room, lit only by a single, flickering candle he sees her flinch when he eases the gauze off her shoulders and arms. She trembles when he undoes the clasp molding the silk to her skin.

_Sakura._ Her name is fitting, he thinks, as the silk pools at her feet. She seems impossibly delicate and fragile, and like a cherry blossom petal pulled from a bough and onto the wind current she shakes. The jewels adorning her scantily designed robes hit his hardwood floor with a dull thud and he pushes her onto the soft velvet cushions that decorate his bed.

Her tears fall freely as he kisses her skin. Something about her vulnerability coaxes him to be gentle. He sees to her needs first before entering her. He is throbbing, hot and heavy, and it is a desire like nothing he has ever felt before. He teases her body, using all of his skill and experience to make her ready. He doesn't want their love making to ever be painful, save for what her innocence will bring.

"Sakura." He says her name like a prayer, something that he has never done before. He thinks that he is glad that she was the daughter that her parents gave up because she is quickly becoming an addiction. Something in him aches at the possibility of her trying to kill him.

When her core is slick with her readiness he thrusts into her to the hilt. Her hands twist in the sheets as she screams as he claims her, and it is not a sound of pleasure. He finds himself apologizing—something he has never done before in his life—as he kisses her. Control is a very difficult thing to find with his member sheathed in her heat, but he is able to stop himself from rocking against her by pressing kisses against the tear tracks staining her cheeks. He kisses her mouth, nipping and sucking at her lower lip.

It is when a throaty gasp escapes her as his teeth trail down her pale skin, and when she wraps her arms around his waist that he knows she is ready.

"Uchiha-sama!" His surname is almost broken when he rocks against her.

"Sasuke. Call me Sasuke." He orders her softly as he continues to thrust into her.

She clings to him, crying, and when her muscles tighten around him and he spills into her, his name leaves her lips. It is a strangled sound—strangled and perfect.

Reluctantly he pulls out of her. He gathers her into his arms, and takes her to the bathing room to remove the traces of her virgin's blood.

Sakura sighs when he runs the soft cloth over her body, cleaning off the sweat and blood. It is only then that he takes into consideration how far she had to travel to get to him, for she quickly falls asleep in his arms, her damp hair tickling his bare chest as she rests against him.

XXX

It is only later, when he is holding her in a bed with fresh linens, a warm coverlet pulled over their bare shoulders and she whispers his name in her sleep that he thinks it is only a matter of time before she can come to love him.

XXX

She does not hide from him when word reaches them of her people's betrayal. She is wise, and does not stray from his side, as his father's aides report on how mercilessly her people were crushed for their rebellion. She is worried, he can see that much at least, but she does not hide from his touch. Sasuke nearly smirks when he notices that she tries to touch him in the most innocent and unnecessary of ways.

He takes a private supper with her—he does not think she can able to handle the barbed comments of his kinsmen—before showing her that she has nothing to fear. She has no need to worry. She is a part of his clan now, and as his wife she has no more attachment to the people of that treacherous, sun-kissed land.

Tears fall in silence down her cheeks when he cups her jaw and kisses her gently. She murmurs something against his lips when he eases her robe off of her shoulders. It sounds like an apology, which is something he doesn't understand. His calloused fingers graze over her nipples as he eases her down onto his bed.

"You are mine." He whispers harshly against her skin as he places hot kisses down her stomach, his hands trailing over her hips. She cries out, arching into him when he touches her core, his name a breathless whisper. "Know this Sakura—" He moves up the length of her body to watch her expression when his hardness presses against her. "No one can kill you—" The tears that had threatened to fall are dry, "no one can touch you." her eyes flutter shut as she cries out when he enters her and her soft hands grip his biceps. He leans down and nips and kisses the sensitive skin at the juncture of her throat. He groans when she convulses around him, and so he wraps his limbs around her lithe form.

When he speaks again his voice is hoarse, his skin burning wherever it touches her. He is quite sure that he can think of no greater haven. "I decide your fate. Do you understand that?"

Her only response is to cry his name, arching into his touch, as the pleasure takes her.


	2. SunKissed Memories

**Ok, I had no intention of doing sequel, but I was a bit overwhelmed by the response Bound received so I decided to turn this into a collection of one shots and drabbles. I'll probably only update when inspiration hits, so don't expect it to regular or frequent. Hope you enjoy this second installment of Bound. **

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**Sun-Kissed Memories**

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It is difficult not to despair as they approach the great city that belongs to the family of the man she is to wed. Despair is a simple thing to give into, and she already courts its edges. She does not want to think about what will happen to her while she is there. Sakura expects the worst, after all she is nothing more than a peace offering, a hope that her marriage will stem the slaughter of her people.

She is terrified as the grand, iron wrought city gates open to permit them passage.

Her mother chastises her on showing too much emotion. Emotion is not a thing that these people cherish, she is reminded. She remembers stories of the refugees who fled to the palace, recalling one tale in particular. It is a story that is whispered most frequently in the shadowed halls of the palace that is no longer home to her. A tale of how the heir to this clan, the Uchiha, ignored the request of a dying man to spare his wife and child. The family was killed without mercy.

She clutches the folds of her bridal silk, ignoring her mother's tap on her wrist as they are brought closer to the palace.

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_Memories of laughter by a pool of crystalline water. Sugared almonds for sweets, and fresh__ly__ squeezed juice. Laughter and light, and the daily teasing of her other sisters.__Memories of parents that too often were absent dealing with matters of state, of the never ending war. Her mother is not there to console her when her first crush spurn__s__ her and teases her for a forehead that she has yet to grow into. Her father is not there to help with her arithmetic. It is not quite a home, for love is scarce, but she knows no other life. What does matter __is__ that there is light and laughter, and for her that is enough._

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They are imposing, but she recalls her mother's harsh words and orders that she is to do her duty perfectly.

Her husband is devastatingly handsome.

He is like the rest of his clan, a painful sort of beauty that seems detached and cold. She can not help but contemplate that perhaps the Uchiha clan is not so different from the land that they rule. Her stomach coils when he touches her. There is nothing particularly repulsive about his touch or his scent. Actually it is quite appealing, but the way he tangles his fingers in her pink locks makes her feel like something less than a wife and little more than a possession.

It is not a feeling she cherishes.

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_The light and laughter __fades__ and a messenger comes from the Uchiha clan. The lord requests a princess of the line to marry his youngest son. Her stomach twists when she hears the message. It is good news, which she knows, for it is an offering of peace, but she is quite sure she knows who will be sent. It won't do to send someone too pretty or any of her parents' favorites. The eldest daughter is to be married to a man that holds a father greater kingdom then the northern lands that the Uchihas hold. _

_It is not unexpected when she is taken to the dress maker for measurements for her bridal attire and mantle. Her husband's name, she is told, is Sasuke._

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Something about him changes when they reach his rooms. Some of the tension seems to leaves his body, and his eyes soften a fraction. She flinches away from his touch—it is instinctive—and she is not sure which surprises her more. Guilt fills her at the surprised look in his eyes when she tries to avoid his touch. It does not stop him—and she didn't expect it to—but he is gentle as he removes the mantle from her shoulders.

When he kisses her, his lips are soft and filled with dark promises and her heart flutters.

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_Her home land has been called Sun-Kissed, for the burning heat has transformed lush plains into a barren wasteland with a few oasis scattered and surrounded by cities. She had never regretted being born as a daughter of that house, but as she is touched by a man with scorching, obsidian eyes, she finds herself responding to him. There is pain, but that is to be expected. _

_He holds her, kisses her, and touches her with something akin to reverence and it is not something that she is used to. She arches into him, allowing herself to be lost in the sensations and to just_ feel.

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His arms bring a feeling of warmth and strength as he holds her. His fingers caress her bare skin and the sound of his heart lulls her into sleep. She didn't think that she would ever be able to call their coupling love making, but deep in her heart she does. Even she knows that there is something possessive about his touch, something wondering, and she thinks that at least _he_ will make the effort to love her.

This marriage does not make her believe in happily ever after, but she thinks she will find some semblance of happiness in this land of frozen winters and frozen people.

She is hardly even aware that she whispers his name, or the soft kiss that he presses to her forehead as she succumbs to dreams of a different kind. Dreams of love, a gentle touch, and passionate kisses. She finds that it is a far better dream than the light and laughter that she is used to.

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**I do have one more idea brewing for the series. I will try and post it soon. Sorry for the lack of lemon.  
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	3. A Small Yet Tender Flame

**Bound  
A Small, Yet Tender Flame**

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She opens her eyes slowly in the pre-dawn hours. Only the faintest of light filters in through the curtains. She turns into Sasuke's chest—_my lord, my savior_, she thinks in a moment of weakness—and his arm tightens around her waist. Her heart flutters at such a simple response. She doesn't think that she will ever grow tired of this. She does not think that she will ever grow tired of waking at his side, with their limbs entwined.

She dreads the days.

He seems to prefer it when she stays in their room, and it is a mutual feeling. The atmosphere in the palace has been too tense, to thick, since her father broke the pact. She wishes that she had known the man whom her eldest sister was to marry then she would have been able to warn Sasuke about what her father had been planning.

His family is and isn't what she was expecting. She only ever watches them as an outsider, almost never interacting. His mother, Mikoto-san, is warm and caring except for when she looks at Sakura. She sees a lot in the graceful matriarch what she always wanted to see in her own mother, and her heart aches just a little bit. She wishes that she could earn that love.

His father reminds her a bit of her husband. He is cold, unapproachable, and full of expectation, yet she suspects that there is a kindness to him that only Mikoto knows of. She thinks it is not something he shows his sons—considering how they are—and she hopes it is not something that Sasuke will inherit. His brother is a detached sort of person and he watches everything with a strange expression, as if the world is a joke that only he is privy to. She wonders how heavy the burdens are, to be heir to the Uchiha. She doubts that the stress, the lines that are etched into his handsome face, will ever fade. There is a dynamic between Sasuke and Itachi-san that she doesn't understand, like so many things about this household, but when she sees them interact it gives her hope.

Then there is Naruto.

Everything about Naruto is too much. He is impossibly bright, loud, and overbearing. He is the son of the most unlikely couple. A mother that is the most renowned throughout for her gift as a healer almost as much as her callous bedside manner, and a father that is legendary for his seduction techniques and his records of said conquests. She has heard stories that Naruto's home life is far from quiet, but she finds that she is not quite sure what to make of him. Maybe it is because he reminds her a bit of home, of light and laughter, but only when she sees this man she knows that there is also love in his actions.

He is one of the few people besides her husband that make her feel welcome, even if she is not quite certain what to make of him.

Still, he makes her laugh and when he is around she sees a side of her husband that she would not see otherwise. They treat each other with a rough sort of comradery, something she doesn't quite understand. But Naruto is not the type to just let her sit idly by when he visits with Sasuke, and there are some times when she is quite certain that she sees the faintest stirring of jealousy in his obsidian orbs.

Oddly enough it makes her happy.

XXX

Her limbs tremble as she tries to keep herself upright as she empties the last contents of her stomach into the basin. She is getting rather tired of this morning illness, the nausea that forces her to leave the bed on most mornings before even Sasuke is up. Grabbing a nearby cloth, she wipes the last of it from the corner of her mouth before reaching for the pitcher, and washing the last of the acidic taste from her throat. She grimaces as she spits into the basin. Sakura has a suspicion as to the source of this sudden, constant sickness but she doesn't dare give voice to it. She doesn't think she can bare it if she is wrong.

A flickering of light catches her attention, and before she can chastise herself from not being quieter his hand is tangled in her long pink hair and a solid chest is at her back. The silk of his sleeping robe falls over her skin as he wraps an arm around her waist.

"Are you finished?"

She lets her head fall back to rest on his chest, her strength gone, and she nods. Leaning back she looks up at him, his eyes are narrowed in a way that looks like it might be concern. It isn't an emotion that she is really used to, she doesn't remember ever encountering it before. He pulls her up, but she doesn't let him gather her into his arms.

"I can walk." It probably doesn't sound too convincing with the way it comes out in a gasp, but he doesn't say anything and just uses his arm to steady her as he guides her back to their bed.

Sasuke surprises her by crawling into bed next to her after dousing the candle. He wraps an arm around her and tangles her legs with his. A brief stirring of longing fills her at the touch of the hard muscle, but the lull of his heartbeat is stronger. It is only when he brushes aside her hair that she is able to concentrate long enough to realize that he is asking her a question.

"It's been three weeks since you started waking up like this, Sakura. Are you sure you're not sick? You need to—"

It is strange, she thinks. This closeness is a curious thing. It seems as if he touches her whenever he has the chance. Sometimes she wonders if it is just from lust, but sometimes she finds that she doesn't care. There are times when he treats her tenderly and that is really all that matters. Before she never would have dared to interrupt him.

"It's fine, Sasuke-sama." She bites her lip to hide her smile at his grunt of protest. It was the honorific that he didn't care for, and she saved it for when he was being particularly…annoying. "Tsunade-sama will be visiting later."

He doesn't push the matter even though she can sense that he isn't completely satisfied with her answer. He allows her to press herself closer to him, her arm draped over his waist. It is winter now and she is still not quite used to the cold.

XXX

Tsunade-sama, she finds, is surprisingly youthful despite the fact that she is supposed to be older then Fugaku-sama. Sakura has a feeling that the healer sees more than she reveals, and something about her hints at great strength. Her amber eyes are narrowed as she listens to Sakura explain her symptoms. The young woman tenses when Sasuke's mother enters the room. The healer takes note of that, her expression sharpening into one of wry amusement as she checks Sakura's pulse.

When she speaks she does not address Sakura, instead speaking to Mikoto-sama, and the young woman has to bite her lip from saying anything. Mikoto is the last person she wants to hate her, but it seems that no matter how respectful she is the older woman treats her with something that is just a hair's breadth away from being distain.

"It looks like it's just regular morning sickness, Mikoto." The casual way the healer speaks the woman's name surprises Sakura. When those thoughtful amber eyes turn her way she finds herself sitting up just a little bit straighter although she isn't sure why. "I'll send Naruto up later with some herbs that will help with the nausea. Send word for me if it gets too bad." Tsunade places a gentle hand on Sakura's and smiles softly. "Congratulations." This, it becomes apparent, is said both to her and Mikoto. "It looks like you finally got those grandchildren."

XXX

When he comes to her that night she loses herself in the sensations.

She cries out as her muscles clench around his length, losing herself in the sensations as he nips on her lower lip before his groan brushes harshly against her cheek. Her eyes flutter shut, it is one of those nights when the stress has been too much for her, and his arms wrap around her to pull her close. Her head rests on the taunt muscle of his chest, the steady thump of his heart more potent than any sleeping draught. He is taking more care than usual to see that she is securely wrapped in the blankets and she knows that he worries for the weariness and signs of sickness that she has been showing lately.

Sakura gives him a soft, sleepy smile before lightly touching his wrist and guiding it so that it rests on her still flat stomach.

The confusion that she senses from him just moment before she drifts causes her to slide her free arm along his bare waist. She sighs contently and slips into dreams of sugared almost, blue knit socks, pink dresses of lace, soft wisps of raven hair, and green eyes that are too bright to be real. She hears giggles and laughter, and with the dreams—and the hope that they bring—she is content.

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**Yes, I made Tsunade and Jiraiya Naruto's parents. There is a reason this is an AU. ;P**


	4. Stolen

**Bound  
Stolen**

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He watches her closely, even though he knows that he should be concentrating on the ledger that his father wants him to review before the meeting with the Hyuugas. Her sudden, apparent sickness worries him. It is often enough that he has gotten into the habit of waking up early to see that the water is basin is clean and fresh.

She is sitting on the cushioned window seat. Her dress is a startling blue with silver embroidery, and a throw of black chemise with black diamonds embedded along the hem is wrapped around her shoulders. Her hair spills over her shoulders and frames her face in a way that he cannot help but be captivated by. It frames her pale features in pink waves and slight curls and Sasuke frowns at the sudden desire that he has to move over to her and touch those soft locks.

She has certainly changed since she was first given to them. Her skin, which has always been pale, is smoother since it is no longer subject to the harsh sun of the land of her birth. Her hair has become soft and silkier thanks to the conditioners that his brother favors. He finds that there are many changes about her, things that he only now realizes, that he prefers since she has to come live with him.

The soft look in her green eyes as she stares out the window, almost dreamy.

Sasuke watches her, abandoning all pretense of attempting to do work. He supposes that there really isn't any rush in completing the ledgers. The Hyuugas will not be arriving until the end of the week. She glances over at him, and he is quite sure that she has been aware of his attention for some time, giving him a shy smile that has him smirking in a way that doesn't even pretend to be reassuring. Sakura tucks her legs in, and he is treated with an expanse of pale skin before she wraps her arms around her legs and hugs herself.

His mouth goes rather dry and he gets up and moves over to her.

Her eyes widen as he makes his way over to her, and she looks down at the floor before glancing back at up at him, her emerald eyes uncertain. His eyes are riveted to her mouth when her tongue darts out to wet her lips and she opens her mouth to speak.

"Sasuke-sama," he hardly notices the dreaded 'sama' which he knows that she only uses when she is nervous or scared. He has more important things on his mind than her perceived insecurities. "There is something I—"

She doesn't get to finish the sentence because he is pulling her up off of the window seat, his arms wrapped around her waist and a hand settling on the flare of her hips. He tilts her chin up with a finger, before kissing her. It is demanding and bruising, as unexplainable as the sudden need that he feels. He pulls at her lower lip with his teeth, and she mumbles, half protests against his lips. He guides her backwards across the floor until her back is pressed firmly against the wall. She moans when his callused hands undo the zipper of her gown and slip under to caress the smooth expanse of bare skin.

"Sasuke…" He had found, months ago, that he likes the way she clings to him when he rocks against her. "Wait…we need to—" Her words break off in a broken cry when the fingers under her gown find her breasts and flick over her the sensitive peaks. He smirks against her skin at the knowledge that her breasts were unbound.

"Later." He mutters hoarsely as he slides the gown off her shoulders and down her body. _Mine_. It is the only coherent thought as he drowns in the sweetness of the kisses she returns, the softness of her curves, and the way her small hands tangle in his hair when he enters her.

XXX

When Sasuke awakens, hours later, and the sweetness of her scent has faded he knows something is wrong. He doesn't feel right and his head hurts. His mouth feels gummy and there is an odd taste in the back of his throat. A strange sound fills the air and, damn it, his head _hurts! _Growling, he reaches for Sakura, wanting nothing more then to pillow his head on her breasts.

Something in him goes cold when he grasps nothing but her discarded dress.

A terrible feeling fills in his gut as he rises, suddenly very awake. The room is dark, and it takes a moment for his vision to adjust. When it does he sees the signs of a struggle: an upset coffee table, a broken window, a ripped folding screen. Something like cold fury unfurls in his gut as he recognizes the grating sounds in the air for what they are.

Alarms.

He pulls on his pants, not bothering with a tunic, and tries to look for any clue as to who the intruder was. What clan did the fool belong to who had taken his wife? Not that it matters. They will die anyway. He is fastening his belt when something by his desk catches his eye. He lights a nearby candle to get a better look.

Spots of blood stain the white fur throw that covers the floor.

His eyes narrow into slits, something feral and primal heating his blood when he realizes his sword is gone. A sudden crash pulls him out of the red haze that he has fallen into and it is only then that he realizes that he has thrown the carafe of brandy that he keeps on his desk. Snarling, Sasuke steps out of the room bare foot searching for his brother. Itachi would be best in knowing on how he will punish those fools.

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**I wonder how many of you want to kill me for this ending…**


	5. The Traitor

**WARNING****: This is shorter then usual, but it is also darker then anything that I've written so far. Sakura is completely vulnerable in this one, so if you don't like dark or dark undertones then it is best if you wait for next week update.**

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**Bound **

**The Traitor**

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She clutches at the coarse material of the blanket that they have provided her with and tries to calm down, but it is very difficult since she is in a room filled with men and the coarse wool is the only thing protecting her body from them. So many of these men she knew once, they were allies, friends of her father's. The whispers of how _she_ is a traitor reaches her ears and the gazes of some of the younger men linger on her form in a way that terrifies her. She is not sure how she is holding back her tears.

It is difficult to keep a hold on her emotions as she remembers how just a short time ago she had been safe, wrapped in the secure embrace of her husband.

_Sasukesasukesasuke—_

Her eyes go wide, her pupils dilated, when a man that she knows well steps into the room—as a child he had been her loving Uncle Tazuna—and she sees the look of pure contempt as he regards her. She has to bite the inside of her cheek to resist the urge to flinch backwards. She clenches her fingers around the wool cloak to stop herself from curling around her belly protectively.

From the time when she had first realized that her family had any given her to the Uchihas as a means to get them to lower their defenses she has always known that she would have to deal with the complications that it had caused and would eventually bring about. Yet, she never thought it would be in this manner.

She fears what will happen if they were to discover that she is carrying Sasuke's child.

"Are you sure he'll come for her?" She recognizes the voice of her youngest cousin and her stomach roles terribly at the look he gives her. For a moment she thinks dispairingly of her cousin Shika. He had left years ago and she had never understood why. All she had known where the whispers, rumors of betrayal. Rumors of something that was so horrid that none of the men in the family had ever dared to speak it. Shika, if he still lived, was condemned as one of the walking dead. The men of the Haruno clan, the same men that stand before her now, were of orders from her father to kill him if he was ever seen.

The contempt that she saw in the faces of those that she had once called family told Sakura that whatever it was awaiting her, it was something far worse.

Tazuna levels her with another contemptuous glare that has her curling in tighter on herself. His words when he speaks are cold and she just wishes that there would be some way she could just hide somewhere so that they could not see her.

"She is his wife. It would damage the Uchiha pride if he were not to at least attempt to retrieve her. It doesn't matter how useless she is."

XXX

Tazuna's eldest son, the one who continues to look at her in that horrid way, is sitting much too close to her. Of course it is at his father's orders. He continues to study her, occasionally craning his neck to try and peer through the cloak that she clings to. She can't help but be horrified at the wrongness of that look. They are blood related! How can he—

Sakura's thoughts are rather abruptly cut off when her cousin asks the one question, the one thing that she knows is on her uncle's mind.

"What if she carries his child? If you found her in his bed then it wouldn't hold that she would have slept with him before." His mouth twists into a disgusted scowl. "We should check."

She grips at the cloak tighter. He can't possibly know what he is saying. He just wants to see her naked. He has always been a bit of an idiot so that he can't possibly know that it has always been on his father's mind. He can't possibly know what would happen.

Tears prick at the corner of her eyes at the renewed interest on her uncle's face.


	6. The Hunt

**One more chapter and we reach the conclusion of the Kidnap arc. **

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****Bound  
The Hunt**

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He finds himself wondering why he worries so much, why he had bothered to keep the gossamer mantle from their wedding night with him. They are only newly married and it is one of convenience. He doesn't understand why he folds and unfolds the shimmering mantle with an almost reverence. He doesn't sleep for nightmares plague his subconscious. He sees broken ivory skin that has been turned purple by bruises and emerald eyes that stare at him with a dullness that scares him.

Only Itachi's presence keeps him from abandoning their small search party and razing the lands to find her. His eyes burn bright with the crimson of the Sharingan, the secret that he has never shown her.

So much of this he doesn't understand. He just knows that wants her back, he wants the reassurance of her soft skin and her sweet scent.

He has never had Itachi's taste for violence, but all he knows is that he wants those men to bleed.

Out of all the people that came with him he did not expect Shikamaru to be so useful. His connection to the desert clan is a well kept secret, and it worries him that the young strategist has been so able to follow their trail so easily. No one has spoken as to who the men are that stole his wife, but it does not need to be said. With the battles that are still being waged in the desert he worries as to what they could possibly be doing with her.

There is no moon out tonight, but he had never been of a superstitious mind, unlike some people, so he isn't even sure if it is a good thing or not. It really doesn't matter, he supposes. The only thing that matters is his _wife,_ somewhere else, and undoubtedly in danger. He hadn't been certain why, exactly, his mother's face had paled to such a stark shade when he had informed her that Sakura was missing. The way she had shouted for his brother to form a team, to go out and retrieve his wife immediately still disturbed him.

They had come with intent purely to take Sakura. His father was furious. Itachi's anti social tendencies were the only thing that had prevented him from being drugged liked the rest of them had.

In an oddly contemplative moment he finds himself hoping that the food she had consumed for dinner that night had not been tainted with the drug. He isn't quite sure why he knows it would have been bad for her if that is the case, but something about the thought makes him uneasy and the comfort that he finds in the night's pitch is small. His blood almost seems to burn in a way that makes his skin itch. He has had many men die under his command during the course of the war, some by the most cowardly means imaginable, but none of those deaths had ever given him such a yearning for revenge. For vengeance.

It is something that he never thought he would develop a taste for, after all it is what his brother excels at. As he fingers the gossamer silk he knows that he will extract a price of blood and pain for every moment of fear that she suffers.

Only the heavens can help them if they harm her in any way.

If they touch her, if her pale perfection is blemished in any way, Sasuke knows that even when their blood soaks the wooden floors of the dungeon so that the planks weep ruby droplets it will still not be enough.

XXX

Naruto is the only one of their extended clan Itachi allows to accompany Shikamaru into the city. The rumor of a young woman wrapped in a _man's _cloak surrounded by several men bearing a strange crest draws them on. Shikamaru had seemed uneasy about the description of the crest, a splintered flame.

Naruto, one who is normally so excited about the prospect of the hunt, is quiet. He eyes the people entering with the city with a suspicion that even Sasuke admits is quite unusual. The pale scars, a result of a childhood accident, seem starker then usual against his tanned skin, and the young Uchiha feels an unexpected and unexplainable surge of jealousy at any worry that Naruto may be feeling for his wife. It is rather irrational, and very similar to the unease that he felt at his mother's assistance that she and Tsunade await their return at one of the summer villas.

Shikamaru was quite certain that they would be able to pinpoint an exact location with just a little more information.

Sasuke doesn't quite understand the general consensus that he is the one person who can _not_ accompany Shikamaru.

He does not join the others at a disreputable bar on the outskirts of the city as they wait for the disgraced Haruno. He finds solace under the slender boughs of a cherry tree. The blossoms are fragrant and comforting, and some stray petals, almost velvety in their softness land on the back of his hand.

All he can do is worry without limits and hope that she is clothed and unharmed. If she is not, then at least he can take comfort that his brother will see to it that he will have the chance to get his revenge.

With the way he feels now he doesn't think he will be satisfied until the man who took her has been reduced to nothing but a pulp of blood, torn flesh, and crushed bones.


	7. Savior

A/N: Hello all! Sadly Jav-chan has run into a homemade bomb shelter, no it's not a cardboard box. It has a TV aerial! This is her beta. And I have important news. This chapter is actually quite dark and very much mature but sadly not at all lemony. So if you don't like scenes of torture and extreme emotional violence/pain, I suggest you wait for next chapter when the cuddle fest starts over again ^^. Seriously, scenes of a very sensitive nature. Oh and if you read, don't like and then complain in your review, Jav-chan's asked me to whack you with a golf umbrella. You've been warned.

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**Bound  
Savior**

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She curls in on herself as she presses further into the corner. She can hardly make sense of the whispers that are swirling around the cramped room, but she hears the word _traitor_ once, then twice, and she knows they aren't talking about her. Her uncle paces the floor right in front of her and occasionally glances at her in a way that seems more malicious than curious. She has this horrible gnawing feeling that he _knows_.

Her green eyes search the room even as she tries to find a way to escape. Sakura knows that it could be rather pointless. She has never been very good at running and all of these men—her _family_, cause tears to leak from the corners of her eyes—are the best fighters of what she used to call home. Her cousin moves closer to her and when she tries to crawl away she encounters something long and slender. Something solid. It clatters to the floor, unbearably loud, but only Tazuna and her sick, _twisted_ cousin notice. She glances at it, her thoughts a bit scattered, and her eyes go wide at the lacquered red and white fan inscribed at the base of the hilt. The sprawling gold latin and kanji runs the length of the sheathe and she doesn't hesitate to grasp the sword, _his katana. _

No one stops her when she takes the slender weapon in her hands. She is of no threat and they know it.

The touch of the cool metal of her husband's sheathe is more comforting than she would have thought possible. She isn't foolish enough to think that it could possibly be of any use to her, but the feel of something that belongs to Sasuke allows her to grasp at those fraying tendrils of hope. She is able to calm herself after several deep breaths.

The barely audible whispers reach her again and her heart thuds in her chest at the harsh, detestable way that they utter "_Uchiha." _

A part of her is calm and rational with the sudden presence of his sword. It is this part of her that wonders how odd it is. Uchiha had once been a word that filled her with unease. Now, despite the loneliness that ached so badly it made her cry when Sasuke was away, it is something that means safety, security and comfort. It means tender caresses and kisses that leave a burning trail down her skin.

Now it is the name of her birth family that causes her to tremble in fear.

She doesn't know what gives it away. Her uncle has always been of the suspicious sort. Tazuna has probably known all along, she knows this, but when he focuses his attention on her so suddenly she isn't prepared for it. The first blow is harsh and painful, but it is the suddenness of the attack that causes her to cry out in pain.

Instinct takes over. Sakura curls into a ball, one hand desperately gripping the edges of the cloak close, while her other hand remains hidden underneath the heavy material. Her fingers splay protectively over her still flat stomach. She doesn't know how he sees it—did he see her hand move underneath the material?

Of course, none of this really matters. All that matters is the pain, the sweet horrible agonizing pain that renders her immobile when the metal toed boot of someone who had once been so dear to her crushes the hand beneath the cloak and it feels as if something is stabbing painfully into her gut.

She knows that it isn't particularly intelligent, but she isn't quite able to stop herself from screaming that one word. A tear, the first to fall, slides down her cheek. The name of the one person that she never wants to disappoint escapes her. Something about his name, about the way it rolls off of her tongue, is painfully reassuring. For a brief moment the pain fades and all she can feel is despair. Then her uncle starts screaming and that _wretched _cousin of hers approaches her. She is hardly aware that she is screaming, and if it wasn't so difficult to breathe thought of what her cousin, of what she knows he has been planning, would make her sick.

Someone, she's not quite sure who, shouts commands and they stop. Her uncle stands before her and she shudders. The pain is dull, and her breath is heavy. Her tears dry on her cheek, and she is a little dazed. Again she hears them whisper that name, the name of _his_ family, but this time she can feel no hope. Her uncle's face is nearly purple with a rage he is barely controlling. Her grip on the cloak loosens, but she takes little notice of it. There is some commotion, but she can't quite hear the words that the Harunos are whispering. She curls into an even tighter ball and can only hope that this will be enough to allow her to protect it.

Sakura is too worried to notice the heavy sound of metal lined boots as they approach her.

It is only when hands grasp at the edges of the cloak that she notices that she is alone with her Uncle Tazuna, his son, and all of her cousins that her uncle favors most. They are all just as depraved and wretched and completely without mercy as Tazuna and his son are. Someone, she is not quite sure who, pulls at the cloak while another steps on it.

The terror that her fills her when she loses her grip on the material hiding her naked body is quickly dimmed by the sharp pain that has her crying out when a metal toed boot connects with her stomach again. This time it is harder. He only kicks her once, and it is only hard enough to make her gasp for breath. Or at least it should be. She is nearly crippled by the pain—_It shouldn't hurt this much_—and a terror that has nothing to do with the fact that she is now completely exposed paralyzes her. Sakura hardly notices the leer one of the men gives her as he approaches her. It's so hard to breathe past the pain, and the horror—_gods NO!—_has her clutching at her husband's sword.

"_You little whore!" _Uncle Tazuna's words are vicious as he continues to kick her. _"H__ow dare you betray us like this! Is it not enough that you continued to lay with him?! It would be more honorable if you were to die than to bear that spawn!" _

There is a sickening crunch and she knows that he has broken something. The pain is like a keen fire, and it is only the despair and the knowledge that she has failed in the one duty that could have possibly proved her worth to the Uchiha matriarch that allows her to form words as she cries out with each strike.

"No!" She senses Tazuna's son coming from behind and she would vomit if she had anything left. _"Sasuke!"_

The blows intensify and now they are coming from all sorts of directions as her uncle roars obscenities at her.

He continues to call her things, horrible things. Some of the words are ones that she is not familiar with. She has heard them before, she has heard Naruto shout the obscenities at the members of the Uchiha clan that refused to accept her. She does not know what they mean but she has still heard them before. The metal of Sasuke's sheath digs into her bare, bruised flesh. The metal is cold and offers no comfort; even the possibility that he could be fighting, trying to get her, is of no comfort. Through the agony all she can feel is this horrible aching loss, and is it far more painful than the blows that continue to rain upon her body.

She sobs and cries his name, she weeps for the one she never knew -- for the one that she will never get to know, never get to meet. Somehow it is so much worse than the pain they are inflicting upon her. Sakura feels that she could die and it still wouldn't be enough. It is when she feels hands, hands that she _knows_ do not, could possibly not belong to her husband, she is abruptly pulled from that horrible sensation as someone caresses her thigh.

When she screams this time it is different. It is one of horror and it pierces the air and she feebly kicks and tries to escape those that have caused her so much agony. She isn't quite aware of what she is doing. Her fingers are clumsy and she grasps at the sword hilt and fumbles to pull the blade free. The pain in her stomach is sharp, but she knows the sickness has not come from the loss or the blows. It comes from the horrible, awful feeling that if she isn't able to _get away_ from him she will experience a hell that is much worse than anything she has ever experienced before.

Sakura isn't quite sure where the strength comes from. Although it is not heavy even sheathed, the katana is a weight she does not think she can bear.

But she _doesn't_ think as she pulls the blade free, she doesn't look, she just thrusts the katana back and down in the direction of the heavily calloused hand that is groping her leg. The sound he emits isn't quite a scream and the blade sinks into him with a wet, grotesque sort of sound. His hand slides down her leg as he stumbles away from her and blood is smeared onto her pale skin. Sakura doesn't take much notice of the stickiness of the blood clinging to her. She can only watch, her face pale, at the way her husband's katana protrudes from his belly. Another one of the men lets out a sound that might be a roar and he lashes out at her, his blunt nail cutting her cheek as he kicks her holds enough force to send her rolling so that she slams against the rotted wall.

When the blows stop for one precious moment she grasps the edge of the cloak that is inches from her, her fingers scraping against the stone floor, and pulls it haphazardly over her form. It is still difficult to breathe, and it becomes even harder when the attacks start once more.

There is no mercy this time with their attacks. They are more brutal, the boot that digs into her side breaks skin. It is strange, but she knows she will not die here. Maybe it is because death would be a sort of relief and life has never been that kind to her.

A horrible sound comes from outside and for a brief moment the beatings stop. Only then when she can hear her cousin drowning in his own blood, uncle Tazuna breathing heavily over her still form, that she hears screams. She knows that they are coming from those who she used to call family yet they don't sound quite human.

Her vision is blurred by the tears and—_by the gods!—_ she hurts. Screams coming from outside are wet and frighteningly similar to the sounds that her cousin makes less than a foot from her. The Harunos, the ones that remain, step away from her and there is the sound of steel being drawn. A whimper escapes Sakura, the sound of relief. As horrible as the sounds outside are she knows that for her it is the sound of hope. Even as her body aches and bleeds, something in her breaks because they are far too late.

She won't hold it against them. After all, it is her own fault, her own weakness that is the cause of all this. Sakura rests her head heavily against the wooden floor, hardly noticing the way her cousin's blood mixes with the fine strands of her pink hair. The harsh material of the cloak irritates her skin, and it's quite some time before she even realizes that someone is screaming her name.

"Sakura!"

Her hands splay over her abdomen protectively, and the pain that forces her to lay prone and curled is the only thing she can concentrate on. She flinches away from the shadow that spreads over her. There is an explosion not far from her, but—_Gods, it hurts!—_something curls over her in a manner that she can recognize as protective even through the haze of pain.

"Sakura? _Sakura._" A rough voice, slightly hoarse as if from disuse, is calling to her. The room is silent, she realizes. She can not hear anything, can not sense any one besides the warm presence that is a comfort. More of those sharp, horrible pains lance through her stomach as she tries to uncurl from her prone position and she whimpers. Skin, rough and callused, is touching—fingers, she realizes—her, cupping her face. Something soft and warm is pressed to her forehead and the figure in front of her is blurred by her tears. She knows that it means safety, that it means security. "Sakura!"

He brushes the tears away from her eyes and suddenly she can see him. His familiar pale face and obsidian eyes that have bled scarlet. Another whimper escapes her, this one of complete and utter relief and she doesn't protest when the harsh cloak is pulled away from her naked form. A puff of air escapes between his teeth in a strangled sort of hiss that almost sounds like a snarl when he takes notice of her nudity and the bruises that are starting to form along her pale skin. Something soft and warm is wrapped around her and he gathers her into his arms.

The pain does not fade, but somehow knowing that it is her husband holding her and lifting her off the floor, somehow makes it easier to breathe. She rests her head heavily against his chest, reveling in the protective way his arms seem to wrap around her. Her hands fist in his tunic and she breathes in his scent. His frame seems to tremble as he stands and carries her out of the horrid building.

The exhaustion and stress finally take its toll on her and her last thought as she falls asleep is how grateful she is that she never told him. Even as the agony of the loss causes her to cry fresh tears she is thankful that he will never know of her failure.

Her last thought of coherence is the comforting sensation of his fingers as he wipes away her tears, something that he mistakes for relief. His mouth brushes against her forehead and the tenderness would have been her undoing if it wasn't for the softly whispered words and the steady beating of his heart next to her ear that lulls her into a deep sleep that is empty of dreams and nightmares.

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Hello all! This is Jav-chan's beta/chief skivvy ;) She wishes to send you her apaologies but Bound won't be updated for a short while. Instead the long awaited new chapter of WANTED will be coming soon to a screen near you! So you get to read something from Jav-chan's awesome conscious. Isn't that good enough? huh? huh?


	8. The Aftermath

**WARNING****: In this chapter Tazuna finally gets his due. There will be torture, branding, etc. There is nothing exceedingly graphic though. If you want to see Sasuke get his revenge read on. If not, it will be best to wait until next week.**

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**Bound  
The Aftermath**

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It is an effort to move calmly and settle into the cart that Shikamaru had rented for this purpose without jarring her too much. He would have to trust that his brother would detain the ones responsible.

It makes him a bit sick because he knows that they were her family. She is much too limp in his arms. He tries not to think of the blood that is soaking his clothes, of the blood that stains the cloak he has wrapped around her. He doesn't care for the tear tracks that stain her face. Never before has he felt so damn useless. He looks down at her as Shikamaru takes the reins and the horses take off for the nearby villa. He holds her tightly, his hands clenching into fists when she whimpers.

His eyes narrow into slits as he takes in the blood that stains her hair red and the blemished skin of her bruised cheek. He knows that there are horrible cuts and bruises underneath the blood that covers her pale skin. He knows, that for the time being there is nothing that he can do except to see that she gets to Tsunade's care as soon as possible. He doesn't think that there is any internal bleeding, but he doesn't dare to try to check. It is reassuring to know that his brother understands the concept of revenge and is willing to offer what expertise he can to Sasuke.

He doesn't care for the way her breathing is raspy or how she trembles as her fingers cling to his tunic. Her grip is weak in sleep and he supposes it is something he should be thankful for. At the very least she isn't feeling any pain at the moment. Hopefully that will last until he can get her back to Tsunade.

XXX

The blatant worry on his mother's face as she rushes out with Tsunade the moment they are safely within the confines of the villa surprises him, but he doesn't allow himself time to think about it. His concern is to make sure that Sakura is safely within the confines that his family can allow her before _he_ can allow himself to join his brother.

Tsunade is forced to gently but firmly pry Sakura's limp form from his grasp. He doesn't like letting go of her, and the paleness of her skin, the blood that is smeared harshly across it gives him this horrible feeling, almost as if he will never see her again. It is not his mother's soft ushering that finally convinces them to leave the room. It is the reassurance of Kakashi's presence just outside the door and Naruto taking up position by the large balcony of the room that she is placed in. That convinces him that she will be safe. It has been nearly a full day since any of them have been able to eat a proper meal. In that, at least he has the reassurance that neither Naruto or Kakashi will be collapsing from drugged or poisoned food. He doesn't worry about Tsunade, as a healer she is in the practice of preparing her own meals. He supposes that he should feel some guilt for not sparing a thought or worry for his mother, but he doubts that even the Haruno family would be so foolish as to use a lethal poison after all that they have done to Sakura.

Of course, this is all dependent on whether or not they are even able to infiltrate the villa.

On the way Tsunade's skin seems to pale is not reassuring, and dread lodges in his gut like a lump of cold iron. It is difficult for him to take that step and close the door behind him.

He tries to ignore the healer's sharp tone as she shouts out orders to the servants. His way down the hall is slow and painful, but he finds, oddly enough, something reassuring when he sees the red glow of his brother's sharingan where Itachi is waiting for him by the door.

Itachi is solemn, impassive, but Sasuke can sense something that almost seems to be amusement. Sasuke scowls at the thought, and feels something like a finely honed fury building up in him. Does his brother really think that this is so amusing? Does he find it amusing that Sakura lays prone, still and horribly pale, in that bed completely covered in blood. Even the younger Uchiha could admit that it is possible that not all of that blood is hers.

Still doesn't change the fact that she is covered in far too much blood.

Itachi is silent as he leads Sasuke down the winding corridor that leads to the holding cell where Sasuke knows his brother has prepared for his exclusive use.

To his elder brother, torture is akin to a fine art -- something that must be carefully honed and perfected. It is something that his elder brother has devoted many an hour to perfecting, and it is this reason why his father, he knows, expects Sasuke to be the one to continue on the family name. It may have bothered him once that women seem to like his brother so much more, but he is hardly in a position anymore to complain about such a trivial thing.

Still, maybe that is one of the reasons why Sakura has yet to meet his brother.

He is surprised to see Itachi's most favored weapons and tools placed out carefully before them. His brother steps back into the shadows, a move that surprises Sasuke, but not one that is completely unexpected.

The man before them, the only one that they have left alive, is old. He is called Tazuna, and Shikamaru identified him as one of the patriarchs of the Haruno clan. He is the one who is responsible for the contamination of their food and drinks that night.

More importantly he is the one that is responsible, he is the reason, why Sakura -- why his wife -- lies in a room upstairs, pale and bleeding.

Itachi is not there to help. Sasuke knows this. There is a great deal of information about the current placements of the Haruno clan's militia that can be extracted from this man. It is his father's mercy that permits him this one chance of extracting some sort of vengeance from this miserable person.

The Haruno patriarch has been stripped of everything save for a modest loincloth. His wrinkled, aged face is pained, and Sasuke scowls when he notices the thumbscrews that are already in place. He should've known that it would be too much temptation for his brother to leave this completely to him.

XXX

The man, Tazuna, his screams are sweet when Sasuke presses an iron hot brand to his tan skin. The brand is shaped in the form of an Uchiha Fan. He watches dispassionately as the man pulls violently on the chains that bind him in a desperate attempt to escape the pain.

A sick hissing sound fills the room as his skin burns and blackens. The brand is not removed from Tazuna's chest until the iron finally starts to cool.

Sasuke finds that he is starting to understand his brother's fascination with interrogation and torture. He places the iron back amongst the burning coals. Although stench of burnt flesh is nauseating, he likes the way it blackens the skin and the way blood seeps through the cracked flesh.

He carefully eyes the pointed weapons, searching for something hooked and sharp. It is regretful that he is unable to plunge the crooked dagger that he selects into Tazuna's belly because that would slowly kill him. Despite everything that this man has done, it would not do to kill him before they can extract some useful information from him.

Sasuke studies the man's quivering limbs, searching for a suitable place to cut. It is Itachi's softly spoken suggestion that has him plunging the dagger into the man's genitals.

XXX

He stayed through the interrogation when Tsunade didn't arrive to heal the Haruno before his father, Shikamaru, and Kabuto entered the room. Sasuke doesn't particularly care for Kabuto but even he can admit that the healer is an asset when it comes to poisons and extracting information. He watches and takes a vindictive sort of pleasure in Tazuna's dying screams when Kabuto injects the man with a particularly painful poison that leaves the victim with the sensation that he claims is akin to being burned alive as it slowly eats away at the organs. It is only after the screams have finally faded that Tsunade appears.

Sasuke doesn't say anything to her as he leaves. He leaves the holding cell without a word to anyone, and for once his father does not try to reprimand him. Perhaps Fugaku understands, that he sincerely doubts. The slight satisfaction that he feels in knowing that the man who kidnapped his wife suffered tenfold the pain and fear that she did fades and seems unimportant as he hurries to the room that Sakura is being held in.

Only a sheet and a light blanket cover her pale form. He ignores the urge to crawl into bed with her and to take her in his arms. He wants to feel the steady pulse of her heart beat and to touch her soft skin.

Sasuke strips off his clothes as he moves into the bathing chamber.

Naruto and Kakashi are silent as they leave.

The water is scalding is it beats against his nude form. He closes his eyes and lets it run over him. It is with great effort that he does not think of the woman lying so still in the bed, with her pale, pink hair fans about her pillow. He tries not to think of her impossibly long lashes and her soft curves.

Only when he has scrubbed his skin so that it bleeds does he think of her.

Revenge is a heady thing, yet somehow it leaves him feeling tainted, poisoned. Only when he is certain that the taint has been washed from his skin does he step out and dry himself.

The softness of her barely clothed form is as close to heaven as he thinks he will get. He buries his nose in her hair and breathes her sweet scent. He throws one leg over hers and wraps itself around her so completely that she is the only thing he is aware of. The steady beat of her heart is his reassurance as he plays with her hair and lets the faint whisper of her breath finally lull him to sleep.

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**Sorry for the late update. Some RL shit was going on yesterday and I just couldn't bring myself to update. Thanks for your patience.**


	9. Uncertainties

**Bound**

**Uncertainties**

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She curls tightly into a ball as she starts to wake. Two days of fear and pain have taken their toll on her and for a moment she doesn't quite recognize the familiar scent that mingles with the warmth that surrounds her. For a moment the hands that are entwined in her hair terrify her. For a moment she is scarcely able to breathe, then fingers are threading through her hair in an action that is so familiar that it makes her heart ache. She recognizes the scent, something that has become so very important to her over the past months, as belonging to her husband.

His fingers rest lightly on the base of her neck and she knows that he is awake. She feels something akin to despair. Already she can feel that horrible, aching loss and it makes the knowledge of her failure all the more painful. She burrows into his warmth, tentatively wrapping her arms around his waist in an attempt to hide from him.

If she doesn't look at Sasuke then she won't have to tell him, he won't find out.

He can't find out.

Tears well up in her eyes when he softly whispers her name. It is comforting the way his hands tangle in her hair. His nails scrape gently against her scalp as he softly coaxes her to look up at him. When she finally gathers the courage to look up at him for a moment she thinks it is a mistake. After all, that impossibly tender look seems so strange on his face.

This can't possibly be her husband. Never has Sasuke ever looked at her like this before.

"You're safe."

Something about the way he says it, something about the thick, almost desperate quality, of his voice makes her believe it. It makes her believe that, yes, she is with someone who actually cares about her. She is actually with someone who doesn't like it when she hurts.

God, how she still hurts.

It is easier, while entangled in Sasuke's warmth, to accept that it was the Haruno clan who did this to her. That doesn't hurt as much as the knowledge that she will never be able to call them family again.

The thought of family brings images of a pale skinned child with raven hair and obsidian eyes with hints of emerald flecks and she isn't quite able to hold back her sob.

Grasping her arms, he is suddenly pulling her up, moving her hands so that they are resting lightly on his shoulders and quite suddenly the pads of his thumbs and fingers are grazing over her cheeks.

He doesn't try to kiss her and for that she is grateful. The dull pain that she still feels, the aching emptiness of all that she has lost, would become unbearable if he were to kiss her. For the moment it is slightly more than she can handle.

He is gently pushing soft wisps of pink hair out of her face, and for a moment she thinks she sees flecks of scarlet in his eyes. Then it doesn't matter because he is whispering words of comfort and the warmth of his hand that has settled at the base of her spine is comforting. She almost closes her eyes when he pulls the covers tighter over their forms.

Then his mouth is brushing against her forehead, and this time she isn't quite able to stop the ragging sob that escapes her. She almost feels as if he is doing everything possible to destroy her. His kisses are soft and gentle and the heat that she is so familiar with seems muted somehow. All she can sense is concern and tenderness as he kisses away the tears that are brimming at the corner of her eyes.

It is this tenderness that pains her the most. She is pressed flush against him and she knows that it would take very little for her husband to treat her with something besides that tenderness. Sakura knows that are times when Sasuke is insatiable although she hardly understands why. Butterflies flutter in her stomach, a sudden fission of nerves at the thought. Even though such thoughts make her blush she wonders, if perhaps, it might make it easier, if it might—

When his hand presses against her heavily bruised hip, his fingers splaying over the silk that covers the horrible, horrible bruise that completely covers her mid-section she can't quite contain her gasp at the sudden pain or the way she tries desperately to pull away from the contact. Even though Sakura knows that such movement is worse than useless—worse, that it will do nothing more than to make Sasuke suspicious—the sudden severity of the pain.

It is when his hands slip under her nightgown and brushes over a bruise on the underside of her breasts that she flinches. That tender, almost lazy expression in his eyes sharpens into something that she knows that she has never seen before. As least _never_ in relation to him.

He growls and then, quite suddenly, the covers are no longer covering her and are instead bunched around her waist. The night air is much too cold for the thin material of her nightgown and she shivers.

He curses in a language that she is not quite familiar with as his hands are quite suddenly searching over her skin, underneath the thin silk, and his eyes when he raises them back to her are hot. She can't stop him as he moves to undo the ties of her nightgown. Even the tears brimming in her eyes don't stop him.

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**A lot of you probably aren't happy with that ending. There is someone you can blame, because she brings out the evilness in me, but if I tell you who she if she'll hurt me.**

**It pains me to say this, but Bound will be taking another break this week. There are two reasons for this. One, is that I need to take some time and really work on the next scene. I would like to have a sweet fluff that includes a citrusy tang, but that really isn't my thing. Two, I do have some lengthy one shots that I've been neglecting. I apologize for the disappointment . Please hold off on the death threats—dead authors can't write.**

**For those that are interested, for the Naruto fandom I will be post a Ita/Saku story for Koibito.**


	10. Wretched

**Bound  
Wretched**

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He pulls away slightly, almost painfully aware of the way she is suddenly trembling. Sakura has never once seen him like this. She has never seen him step off a battlefield against her clan, still steeped in the bloodlust. He is scaring her. He still doesn't know what she went through. This knowledge chaffs, though not quite as much as the sight before him.

He breathes in a deep, ragged breath in an attempt to calm himself. Her emerald eyes are wide and have that horrible suspicious sheen and he knows that he will make her cry. He doesn't want that. He doesn't want to do anything to hurt or scare her.

_But he needs to know._

His touch had been so light. It is almost painful, the way he is so overly aware that he needs to treat his wife gently. Tsunade had said that it would take time for her to heal.

Sasuke has this horrible feeling that those words are a terrible understatement. For a moment he just leans over her, trying to ignore the hints of fear that are now bringing tears to her wonderfully vibrant eyes. He breathes a deep ragged breath and forces himself to hold still. Momentarily he just stays there, his arms shaking more from the force of his emotions than the stress of supporting his own weight. He presses his forehead gently to hers, not trusting himself to speak. He has always been a bit more—_obsessive_—protective of his things than the rest of his family, and knows that despite his best intentions he will probably scare Sakura.

He presses his lips tenderly to her generous forehead, before he pulls himself up so that he can finish undoing the buttons that keep her nightgown closed. Neither of them is quite able to breathe as he slowly, _gently_ pulls the delicate material down. He barely has it down past her breasts when his vision is quite suddenly flooded with red. Her sudden intake of breath lets him know that there is no more hiding the family secret from her. He finally finds the will to speak, choosing his words ever so carefully, but he is still not able to keep the hint of a growl out of his voice.

"They hurt you." It is a blunt statement, almost careless, and his touch is impersonal as he traces the purple bruise on the curve of her left breast.

Sakura doesn't say anything, it chaffs that she is hardly even breathing, her hands curled slightly over her breasts as if she is worried she may need to fend him off.

"Move your hands. Let me see." He tries to keep his voice soft, to sound nonthreatening and he waits as she slowly, painfully slowly, uncurls her hands and lowers them to the side. "Sakura." He is not quite able to keep that hint of desperation out of his voice. "Don't you_ ever_ fear me." Sasuke takes care to hold her gaze, and doesn't move until her chin tilts downward in a nod of understanding. His eyes linger on hers for moment, and a lump forms in his throat when he notices the tears that are gathering in the corners of her eyes. When they start to fall, it is only then he is able to look away from her and concentrate on discovering the exact extent of her wounds. For a short moment he is relieved when he sees no cuts or stains of blood.

Then he pulls her nightgown down past her waist. His vision floods red and all he can see is the horrible bruise that covers the entire expanse of her lower stomach. The skin is a sickly yellow around the edges and he can only stare at the hideous mark even as he feels something that is remarkably close to fury. He is not aware that the expression on his face is akin to that of horror as he finally manages to look away from the purple flesh and pull back enough to get a good look at her.

Tears are falling steadily down her cheeks as she looks at him. Despite having grown up in a land of blistering heat and scorching sun she has always been exceptionally pale. The horrid starkness of the bruises in combination with her tears and paleness makes her seem so much smaller. She seems so unbearably delicate and fragile.

Sasuke is quite certain that he does not want her to pull her shift down the rest of the way to see what further damage her family has caused, but he also knows that he will be causing her irreparable pain if he were to turn away from her now. It would be far worse than anything her family could have done. He swallows thickly when he notices just how the bruises continue to trail downwards as he pulls the silken nightgown down over her hips.

Suddenly Sasuke feels as if he is five again and watching his favorite dog getting run over by a carriage. He barely manages to hold back a choking sob that has somehow cooled the rage he should be feeling at his wife's current state. He can't explain why he feels this way but suddenly it becomes quite unbearable, this horrible and undeniable proof that he has violated their marriage vows and failed her so completely. Sakura shouldn't be looking up at him like this, with her eyes too wide and cheeks too wet from the tears that are spilling over her cheeks. His hands shake slightly in a way that he is so certain no one but he has ever noticed, but her emerald eyes are drawn to the thumb that is slowly reaching out to brush against her unblemished cheek and he watches as her mouth forms into a small "o".

Her lips look so soft.

Sasuke isn't quite overcome with desire, but rather this unbearable need to touch her and for her to reassure him that she will get better. He needs to know that she will be all right and that she won't hate him for failing her. She closes her eyes as his fingers brush carefully over her smooth skin, and the tears that scald him. He isn't quite certain what it is that she sees, watching him and he can only hope that he has managed to properly convey to her just how remorseful he feels.

The uncertainty in her wet eyes tells him that he hasn't.

He doesn't think as he closes his eyes and presses his forehead to hers, letting his body rest against her bruised form. He isn't quite prepared for the way that she cries out and twists under him, arching her body as if she is trying to get away from him. His mouth goes dry and he can't quite roll off her fast enough. Sakura curls into a ball when he pulls away from her, trembling, and more of those wretched tears fall as she gasps painfully.

A guard scratches the door and softly murmurs to see if everything is all right. Sasuke's eyes are too wide and full of too much shock, and he feels numb as he answers. He isn't quite aware of the words that are formed, but it is enough to get the guard to leave. The bed creaks slightly as he sits on the edge, careful that even this bare movement doesn't hurt her. He feels hollow as he watches her clutch the silk sheet around her form, her eyes dark with pain and her cheeks wet with too many tears.

"I can't touch you." His voice breaks a little as the realization hits him, and the back of his eyes burn slightly. He wants to touch her, to wrap himself so completely in her softness and heat, but he _can't_. Even the slightest touch to that horribly bruised skin has her pulling away from _him_ and curling into a ball. This need to touch her is like a physical ache and he isn't quite sure that he can think of a more potent hell.

"I'm sorry." Her voice sounds more broken than his own and she shakes with an emotion that he doesn't quite understand. What can she possibly need to apologize for. "I—"

More of those horrible, dreaded tears form in the corners of her eyes, and even though he knows he can't, knows that he shouldn't, he moves closer to her.

Sasuke watches her so very carefully, waiting for the slightest hint of pain as he slowly pulls the cover over their forms. His hands ghost over the line of her body, wanting to touch and yet not quite daring. It is only when she struggles to move closer to him, wincing slightly as she does so that he permits himself to rest a hand against the curve of her hip. She winces and gasps, but the slender fingers that are suddenly grasping around the hand on her hip have him stilling, and Sasuke can't quite force himself to move. He swallows hard, still watching, before finally giving into that terrible temptation. His other hand cups her pale cheek and he kisses her. He whispers soft words that don't really seem to take a form as his lips brush over her smooth skin. He can take comfort, at least, with the way she sighs against him as her head rests heavily against the pillow. At least this doesn't hurt her.

He does not sleep this night. He knows that if he does then he will only want to wrap himself in her warmth, and the last thing that he wants to do to her is cause her any more pain that what she has already suffered.

_Gods, he just wants those tears to stop._


	11. Solace

**Sorry for the delay. It's a combination of laziness, writer's block and leaving the flashdrive that contains all of my writing at work on Friday. Better late then never though and this one's a little longer then usual. Enjoy.**

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**Bound**

**Solace**

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Sakura can never quite recall a time that she has ever felt so wretched. Her body throbs with a constant ache, and seeing that brief look, that one look of utter despair on her husband's face has never made her feel so…well she isn't quite certain what the word for what she is feeling is. All she knows that it is something horrid and terrible and when combined with the utter knowledge of her complete failure she is beginning to wonder if perhaps she is better off dead.

If she were dead then she wouldn't have to feel any more.

She feels horrible and selfish for her tears, and even though she tries to hide it, the warm weight of his arm, tossed lightly over her still hurts. When his hands slip under the covers and his fingers flex against her bare skin it hurts. It hurts, but she would rather be in pain pressed against his warmth with his arms wrapped securely around her then to be in bed by herself, with only her terrible thoughts to keep her company. Sakura turns onto her side, barely holding back a gasp when her stomach brushes against the mattress. It is so much easier to push aside the pain, to almost forget, if she just concentrates on him instead of thinking on the life that was once growing inside of her. She bites her lip against the sudden wave of pain that has nothing to do with her bruised flesh and tries so desperately to see nothing but him.

She pushes aside the still damp locks of raven hair and wonders when he had taken a shower. She usually hears him. She has always found something…soft about his features when they have been smoothed away in sleep, and as her fingers smooth over the strong line of his jaw she can't help but wish that he would open his eyes and look at her.

She still feels horrible for feeling so terrified of her own husband for such a brief moment.

No…maybe that isn't quite right. If she were to be truly honest with herself then Sakura would be able to acknowledge that it wasn't Sasuke that scared her—it was the fear that when he looked at her and saw the bruises that maybe, perhaps he would _know_.

Unbidden, an image of his face twisting into disgust as she tells him that she couldn't protect their child appears in her mind, and she can't breathe. The fingers that had been moving to touch the shell of his ear suddenly tangle in his unkempt hair and she gasps. Sakura grasps at the body outlined by the heavy blanket and those dreaded tears fall once more. She is hardly even aware that she is whispering his name, almost desperately, until the pad of a finger, rough and calloused from constant sword play, touches just above her cheek and brushes away her tears.

"Are you in pain?"

It is the rough tenderness in his voice that is her undoing. She grabs at him as a low, keening, moan rises from her chest. Her body aches and twinges as his arms wrap around her and Sakura grips his arm, trying to find some support in the feel of the lean muscle underneath her skin. Lips press to her hair as she buries her head in the crook of his neck and wails.

_Gods, it hurts!_

She had been so eager to know, wanting to see if it would have her eyes, or his hair. Would it have been stubborn, taciturn, like her husband? Would it have carried any of the traits that she now hated in her birth family?

Sakura sobs, the thoughts that she was able to keep away thanks to his presence suddenly overwhelming her as she trembles, sobs, and clings to her husband. She whispers his name over and over in breathless gasps, and it is nearly impossible to breathe. Her body still thrums with the constant ache, a reminder of the severe bruises, but it is nothing compared to the horrible emptiness inside of her. It is only when Sasuke coaxes her to lean back, his fingers combing the long strands of her hair that she looks up at him.

For a moment, the sobs stop as his eyes bleed crimson, tiny black spots spinning amidst the blood red. Then something is dragging at her, pulling her down. The pain starts to fade—but not the loss, _Gods_, never the loss—as her body feels heavy. She is only aware of his warmth and the soothing feel of his hands as they dance over her skin, brushing away the drying tears and combing her hair. It is moments before her exhaustion combines with whatever it is that he has done to her and her eyes slide shut as she slumps against him.

It is only a few moments yet, somehow, it feels like an eternity.

XXX

She is not aware of much as the days pass, and it is only until they leave, weeks later, after her bruises have finally started to heal that she is even aware that they are no longer in the city. They are, point of fact, quite close to the border that divides his kingdom from the one she used to call home, and Sakura refuses to let him leave her side.

Since he seems reluctant to do so, regardless, it works out for the best.

Her husband presses soft kisses to her forehead in a way that is new and strange. She can sense a hesitance, an urgency, in those kisses that puzzle her. It seems so restrained, and it is not something that she has encountered from him ever before. Sasuke has never held back before when he has wanted to touch her. Why even the last time, before—

She silences that thought with a savage rip and tucks away into a dark corner of her mind and binds the thoughts with chains and locks. When Sasuke looks at her, his expression one of mild puzzlement, Sakura is only able to find the energy to give him a wan smile as she locks her fingers with his and rests her head on his shoulder after he helps her into the carriage. It is just the two of them, and she has never been more grateful for that. She is not sure when, if ever, she will be able to face Mikoto. It would be a lie to say she doesn't know why the Uchiha matriarch seems to hate her so much. After all, they have been fighting against everything that the Haruno clan stands for for several years, decades even. Sakura isn't sure if it hadn't merely been wishful thinking on her part, but it had seemed that her mother-in-law had started to warm up to her after learning of Sakura's pregnancy? Sakura can't quite stop the lump that is forming in her throat as to how the older woman will act when she finally learns what has happened. The only thing that can possibly make any of this worse is the thought of what were to happen if—

_Gods, no_. She shouldn't think about that. Surely Mikoto wouldn't say anything to Sasuke now that she has lost the baby. Surely not even she would be that cruel.

Would she?

XXX

She remembers vividly the last time that she sat on this window seat, looking out over the gardens that make up the inner Uchiha estate. She curls her hand into a fist to fight against the urge to rest her hand against her stomach. Sasuke is watching her far too closely.

It has been far too long since he has last touched her like that and some part of her can't but fear that perhaps he _knows. _Perhaps he hates her for it.

There are moments when something so very close to a sort of exquisite despair approaches, but then he will do something—touch her hair or press a soft kiss to her forehead—and it will just be enough to stave the ache that is steadily growing worse.

He is too careful with her, she thinks.

Something about the way he treats her, the way he acts, makes her uneasy and she almost aches for the familiar way that he would touch her only two months ago. She _wants _him to run his hands over her skin in that tantalizing way that makes her blood quicken. She wants and yet she is terrified that the abuse she has suffered at her uncle's hands has made her damaged somehow.

She fears what will happen if she is to become pregnant again. Will someone else come and steal away the one reason that she is (sometimes) quite sure is the only reason why Sasuke's family bothers to suffer her presence? It has been three months since she has last felt like this.

Maybe a part of her recognizes the unfairness of it all.

After all, isn't it tradition that when a bride is given to a new family, a new clan, that she sheds the vestiges of her old life? Is it not tradition that the only things she may retain are the bridal silk and mantle, the memories? Isn't it necessary for a bride to devote herself so completely to her new husband's needs and his family's expectations?

How could they call her a traitor to the Haruno line when she only did what was expected?

The ache claws at her belly and makes it almost unbearable to breathe. The lack of contact, save for those soft kisses and the times at night when he gingerly wraps his arms around her, has made her raw. She misses those moments when it is impossible to tell where he begins and where she ends. She misses the feel of his naked skin, and the way that, when they make love, their world seems to shrink and nothing exists but the two of them.

Sakura isn't entirely aware of her actions as she gets up. Sasuke's eyes rivet quite suddenly to her form and there is an intensity that she sees there that makes her blood quicken, even though it is so difficult to gauge his mood. He puts down the book he had been reading, even though she doubts that he has turned a page even once. He doesn't even seem to notice that the book is upside down. She nearly shivers when she notices how his obsidian eyes rove over her form, burning with a sort of banked heat, and she wonders if perhaps she has been wrong about him.

Nervous butterflies turn her stomach into a quivering mess as she realizes that this will be the first time that she has ever initiated something like this and it is nearly enough to make her stop and hesitate. Then she remembers how easily he makes the world disappear for her.

Sakura reaches for his hand when she finally stops at his chair. Her green eyes watch him for a moment before she finds the nerve to settle onto his lap. She doesn't allow herself to worry when his face remains almost expressionless, for his arms are wrapping around her form, and it is only now that she is aware how cold she is. Her mouth seeks out his. Her name leaves his mouth before he tugs at her lower lip and she moans, her fingers suddenly tangling in his hair.

His hands are roving over her curves, but her world hasn't quite narrowed down to just the feel of him yet. Then his fingers brush against the part of her left hip that is still bruised a faint purple. The twinge is so slight, so insignificant when in comparison to the pain of two months ago, but something about that twinge causes the chains binding those painful memories to shatter and rust. When Sakura cries out as his teeth scrape over her skin it has more anguish in it than pleasure, and she realizes that she is not ready for this.

The arms around her seem too confining and she fights to get away. Her breath comes in short gasps and she feels lightheaded.

Sasuke is saying her name in something that almost sounds like a panic, but she barely hears it. She just isn't ready for this. She needs to get away. _Gods, he can't know!_

If she were able to breathe a little bit easier then she would notice how strange her husband sounds as he tries to get her to look at him, tries to still her struggles. She might notice the underlying edge of fear that taints his voice.

But she isn't able to notice any of this, all she is able to concentrate on is the that terrible thought on what he would do if he _knew. _

Sakura screams as she tries to get away from him, but he won't let go. Her husband wraps his arms tightly around her and brings his mouth close to her ear. He does not yell but his voice is loud enough to make her flinch.

"Sakura! Look at me!" His voice is rough and desperate, and the sudden volume when she is pinned to his chest has her looking up at him.

Once more his eyes are awash in blood and she feels herself sinking, her body so…unbelievably…heavy…

XXX

The sun has set when she opens her eyes, and she is aware of the warmth that is pressed around her, circling her gently. Sasuke's hair has fallen over his eyes, and hide their darkness from her view as she blinks up at him, sleep still dragging at her, but she can see the lines around the edges of his mouth and can feel his worry in the way he tucks a few tendrils of hair behind her ear. Sakura opens her mouth to speak, maybe to apologize, but he presses a finger to her lips.

"It was too soon." He says quietly. "You are hiding too much."

Her stomach twists into nervous knots and she fears once more that he knows. He continues to speak and that, combined with the soft touches against her hair and cheeks helps to take the edge off the terror that usually accompanies such thoughts.

"You are stressing about something. Tsunade says it is wearing you out. Please," His voice sounds almost as desperate as she feels. "Sakura, just rest. I won't ask that you tell me why you're scared of me." He shifts and pulls on her form until she lies on top of him, her limbs draped and drooping heavily. Gods, her eyes feel so heavy. He presses another kiss to her. "I told you to never fear me. I'm your…husband." If it isn't for the exhaustion and the lingering fear she would smile at the way he seems to have difficulty with that word. "It's my job to protect you. I—"

Whatever else Sasuke has to say to her, she doesn't hear. The beat of his heart is so comforting, and the fingers stroking her hair is so soothing, and she lets the steady _thump, thump_ lull her off to sleep.

After all, it is so much better than being awake.

XXX

The next morning Sakura wakes to find her husband gone, their blankets still wrapped tightly around her form, yet their room is not empty. For a moment her heart races as she remembers that horrible night, but then cool slender fingers are touching the blankets that cover her shoulders. Sakura turns and blinks wearily to see solemn, dark eyes staring down at her.

As usual Mikoto's hair is tied into many tiny braids and swept up into a severe sort of bun. Her dress is a soft grey and in her hand is a silver rose. It is so similar to the one that grew in the gardens of her birth home. Silver Water Roses, they are called.

Sakura isn't quite sure what to say as Mikoto suddenly helps her sit up and places the velvety blossom into her hand. When the young woman looks up it is not pity or disgust that she sees on her mother-in-law's face, but, rather, understanding.

"This rose is only known to the women of the Uchiha family, Sakura." Mikoto speaks suddenly as she sits on the bed. Her eyes flicker to the rose in Sakura's pale hands and then she envelopes her in a hug, her hands resting on Sakura's back in a manner that is so motherly—so foreign—that Sakura can't quite hold back the sob that chokes her. "It is tradition for the men of the family to be kept ignorant of its meaning." The older woman smiles wryly. "Although that is hardly a difficult task." She pulls away for a moment and wipes away the new tear tracks with a handkerchief and continues. "It is for the lost ones. The ones that are loved dearly and loved in vain. For the ones that will never be. For the ones that—" A pained expression suddenly crosses her face, and it is an expression that Sakura has seen in the mirror to many times as of late.

Never has it occurred to her that there might be someone so close who understands her pain so well.

"For those of whom we have lost we plant a rose for remembrance and a reminder that there is always hope." Mikoto takes the silver rose from Sakura's hand before the younger woman can crush the delicate petals when she curls her hands into fists in an effort to stave off her tears. "It is also a promise. A promise that we will protect the ones that come next."

It hurts when Sakura cries at those words. It is so difficult to breathe. She doesn't tell Mikoto that she thinks such a promise is impossible for her. She can't tell her. Sakura doesn't tell her of her fears that she will no longer be capable of having another child.

She doesn't utter a word of this, but when the older woman wraps her in another comforting hug, softly humming an old lullaby, Sakura feels that the Uchiha matriarch knows nonetheless.

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**I hope this clears up some questions people had about Mikoto. She never hated Sakura, but she was never quite sure how to act around her, especially when the Haruno clan broke their part of the pact after the marriage.**

**Next chapter: Male Obliviousness at it's finest.  
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	12. Dense Yet So Transparent

**Bound  
Dense, Yet so Transparent**

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**He feels foolish, wondering why he feels so guilty for peering in through the shoji door of his room. There sits both his mother and his wife. Their heads are bowed, and Sakura seems to be trying to curl in on herself. He frowns at the tearstains he can see on her cheeks even from such a distance. Something is wrong with his wife and he still is no closer to discovering _what_ than he was ten days ago.

It is unusual for her to start spending so much time with his mother, and it worries him.

At first he thought that it had merely been because of the attack. For the first couple of days afterwards her expression was one of pain. Her expression had been so full of pain that none of his touches or occasional kind words could soothe it away. Not even _Naruto_ could make her smile. (For which he is still secretly thankful for.)

He has had to use the Sharingan on her twice since that night three days ago, and the fact that he has to go to such lengths to ensure that she actually gets a good sleep scares him.

He frowns as his mother murmurs something in Sakura's ear, his eyes narrowing when her lips trembles. His mother gently combs Sakura's pink locks, and the expression on her face is one of such tender kindness that Sasuke is quite sure that it is one that he has never seen before. Ever since the Harunos reneged on the peace pact that was a result of his marriage to Sakura, his mother has been tense and uneasy around his wife.

Her sudden interest in his wife's melancholy and anguish is not one he likes.

He contemplates forcing his way into _their_ room, and demanding an explanation, but he hears Naruto's loud, grating voice. He sighs, knowing that he has best see what brings the Healer's son to the palace again, before his brother starts hitting on Naruto again.

XXX

"Sasuke." His mother's soft voice is the excuse he needs to escape from his father's scathing lecture of mingling with those who are not of his caste. Her mouth is pressed into a thin line, and his heart thumps queerly as he wonders why she could possibly look so…disturbed.

"Haha-ue." He bows respectfully before her, missing her slight smirk at his sudden formality. He rises when she lays a gentle hand on his arm, and guides her out of the study. They walk down the corridors that lead out onto the gardens, then he leads her down the stone path, eyeing her curiously. Her brown eyes survey the area once, as if to make sure that their solitude is secure. Then she smacks him quite hard over the head and pinches his arm painfully. Her expression is hard and one of displeasure.

"Sometimes I wonder if perhaps your brother isn't wrong," she hisses, "you foolish, foolish boy!"

He is unable to do more than raise his arm in self defense, and utters no word of protest.

His mother pulls away from his side, twirling a stray lock of hair around her finger. "Although I suppose we have your father to blame for that. This certainly is something that he would do."

Sasuke can only stare, completely and utterly confused.

Her expression turns thunderous when she notices the complete befuddlement of _his_ expression. For a moment she looks as if she is going to hit him again and then she seems to thinks better of it.

"I expected better from you Sasuke, I really did. I raised you better than this. This is something I would expect of Itachi perhaps, but not you. I never would have expected you to avoid your wife during such a crucial time."

Dread fills him, as hard and jagged as ice, as he denies this. His expression is one of growing horror—he just knows that there is something too off with how she has been acting, something that can't even be explained away by the trauma—but his voice when he speaks is far calmer than he feels.

"What do you mean?"

She studies him for a moment, her expression softening into the look of one who has just had a suspicion confirmed. "She really hasn't told you, has she?" His mother shakes her head, and the pity he sees there sets him on edge. She gives him a gentle push. "Go, Sasuke. Your wife needs you know more than ever."

XXX

A keening sound of utter pain and harsh breathing reaches his ears when he enters their room. It is a sound that has become more familiar than he cares for. Familiar for far too long.

He pushes aside the door leading to their sleeping chambers and starts at the sight of Sakura there. Her pink hair is stark against the blackness of their sheets, and she is rocking back and forth, her face pressed into the pillows. They are muffling her cries, he realizes. He doesn't like the way her arms are wrapped around herself, her nails digging into her bare forearms. It is then he notices the angry red marks, some of them scars that litter her arms. He knows they are not from the attack, he had taken note of every mark they had inflicted on her. These are new.

The guilt is almost suffocating when he realizes just to what extent she has been suffering. Whatever it is, is enough to make her harm herself, enough to make his mother offer kindness.

Sasuke goes to her, the guilt still gnawing at him. Sinking beside her on their bed he wraps his arms around her, holding her tightly. She turns and grips at his tunic, crying hard enough that she is gasping for breath, but he has a distinct feeling that she isn't aware of who he is.

He can't quite make out the words that she whispers brokenly over and over, and doesn't quite understand why her hand is pressed to her belly.

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**So I lied about Sasuke finding out this chapter. I know some of you are probably frustrated with the slowness but given the chapter title it seemed he should stay in the dark for a little bit longer. Gomen**

**This chapter signifies the ends of my current ideas for Bound. Ok, that's a lie. I have a comfort one planned, but after that—and a possible lemon—I'm running up dry. I would like to explore this world a bit more so if anyone has any one word prompts they can give please send me a PM or leave a note on my LJ.**


	13. Silence

**Just to reiterate****: For those who want to help me with ideas please provide me with ****only one word prompts****. I appreciate everyone who has sent lengthy paragraphs with what they want to see happen, but all I need is one word that can be the theme of a chapter that can inspire. If you would like to suggest a phrase or a quote that is fine, but please no more then that.**

**Also, please note that the purpose of this fic, as I have stated was a writing exercise as this was originally a one shot. All chapters will be drabble length. Some may go to three pages, but no more. This is the only way that I'm able to update regularly. Chances are, I may start posting all of my chapters with only a couple pages a chapter for the other fics that I am working on because with the longer chapters it is difficult for me to write regulary due to my schedule and amazing skill at procrastination.**

**Thank you for your patience and understanding. Enough of my talking. On with the fic!**

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**Bound**

**Silence**

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It is difficult but Sasuke is eventually able to get her to speak.

The silk sheets are nearly pulled up to her chin and her head is resting heavily against his chest as his arms encircle her. His mother's presence, at the far corner of the room is unnerving but Sakura seems to find some sort of comfort in it so he says nothing. It is only later, when the words start to tumble out of her mouth, her body trembling as if she is almost afraid of him, that he is grateful for his mother's presence. She probably already knew he realizes and her constant inquiries of his wife's health and the time that she has spent near Sakura suddenly make sense.

He swallows thickly at the way she seems to curl in on herself.

Her voice is soft as she recalls the strange, sudden sickness of a few months. She talks of her visit with Tsunade, one that should have been the start of many. Her fingers curl in the silk of his jacket and he suddenly finds it difficult to breathe as he starts to make sense of her words.

His arms wrap tighter around her and Sasuke can't help but notice that his wife is holding herself much too rigid. He knows what she fears, and now he understands her constant tears, the marks and the lack of sleep. It is all understandable, he supposes, if he takes the time to stop and think about her situation. After all, things can not possibly be easy for her.

He has gone to such pains to make sure that the rumors don't reach her, especially now, but there are too many in the Uchiha clan that do not trust Sakura.

He opens his mouth to say something—_anything_—some words of comfort, that would stop the tremors that wrack her body and make her finally eat something again, but he is having a hard time getting past this revelation.

She had been pregnant. With _his baby._

She had been _pregnant._

Pregnant.

Sakura flinches when his fingers slip under the tunic that she has taken to wearing and he rests his hand on the naked flesh of her belly. Even as he revels in the soft feel of her skin, a part of him becomes so unbearably sick. There had been a baby, a son or daughter—_his—_sleeping here. That night, before Sakura had been stolen from him—when they had made love— she had seemed so much more sensitive than before.

She had been carrying _his child._

_His child_.

It is so very difficult for him to get past that thought. He has difficulty registering that one, simple, _wonderful_ fact, that he can't even begin to feel the proper rage that he should at the knowledge that he will never have a chance to know the child.

He was even cheated of the celebration of the pregnancy himself.

"I'm sorry."

His mother leaves their room without a sound and neither of them notice. He can only concentrate on the feel of his wife's bare stomach and the life that should be there that isn't.

He wants nothing more than to comfort Sakura, but it is such a horrible shock that no matter how hard he tries, he just can not find the words.

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**My apologies for those who have yet to receive replies from last week's reviews. For some reason FFN is refusing to allow me to respond to several of them. I will send private messages to everyone who has not yet received one as soon as I can.**


	14. Tenderness

**My apologies for leaving my beta's notes in this chapter. I think I've removed them all.**

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**Bound  
Tenderness**

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For the next several days Sasuke refused to leave the apartments that he shared with his wife. Only once did his Father try to approach him to stop -- as Fugaku had called it-- this foolishness, but a quick word to his mother saw an end to that harassment. It doesn't matter that their relationship with the Hyuugas is almost solidified. It doesn't matter that a proper alliance is all they need to tip the scales against the Harunos and finally bring an end to the conflict that has lasted for several decades. Even though something in him fairly burns whenever he thinks of that wretched family, Sakura seems much too fragile, too brittle for him to leave for something as unimportant as these politics.

Besides he knows for a fact that Naruto is on his way to ensuring that the Hyuugas would never abandon the alliance.

The morning after Sakura had told him, the almost shattered way that she had watched him is something that makes him much too uneasy. He had reached over across the bed, overcome with a ridiculously overwhelming need to touch her.

He hadn't expected her to cry when he kissed her.

As he reflects on it now, Sasuke realizes that it was probably one of the first times that he had ever panicked over anything. He had been hardly aware of the dozen apologies that had spilled out of his mouth, pleading for her not to cry, that he couldn't possibly hate her. He still doesn't know why he said that last one and why it only seemed to make her cry harder. There is too much that he doesn't understand as to why she is in so much pain now, and he has never quite felt so useless. So he takes his mother's advise and holds her gently; fingering the soft, pink strands of her hair. It is only then that he notices how limp her hair is, as if it hasn't been cleaned.

"Did you wash yesterday?"

As she shakes her head in denial an idea slowly starts to form. It is one that he is quite certain would earn Kakashi's seal of approval. It is rather well hidden from those within the walls of the Uchiha Clan but his former teacher has a tendency to be quite the closet pervert. She makes a noise of protest in the back of her throat when he pushes the covers back and looks up at him, her eyes still wary. It hurts more than he cares to admit that she doesn't trust him. Even what she doesn't trust him not to do isn't entirely clear.

If he lingers on the thought of how little trust there is between them despite the fact of their marriage then it leaves a bitter taste in his mouth.

So he pushes it to the back of his mind as he helps her out of bed. Sakura is much too unsteady on her feet and he finds himself wondering how she can stand not to take a step from their rooms. In the days that he has been with her she has hardly even left the bed.

"Where—?"

"I'll clean your hair and your back." He tries hard not to blush. "Tomorrow we shall go for a ride." He grits his teeth when she starts to shake slightly.

"But—"

"You need to get away from the estate." He hesitates. "Naruto will meet us."

Some of the tension seems to leave her and the tremors stop slightly, but Sasuke can not help but glower that _his_ wife should feel ease at the mention of _Naruto.__  
_

"We will wash," he says softly, "and I will have the servants bring a meal. Afterwards we will sleep." His tone allows no room for argument, not that he would worry of receiving such from her. Sasuke tucks her into his side as he guides her into the bathing chambers. He guides her past the smaller tub that is used for quick, perfunctory bathing and to a winding stone path in the back that leads to their own, private hot springs. A wedding gift , from his mother.

A hand clutches at the material of her sleeping robe, just below the collar and she seems to be visibly trying to restrain herself as he starts to undo the clasps at her back. Her hands clasp together, her knuckles white, as the material slips off her slender form. He watches her carefully, his face cursedly impassive, as he takes her hands and helps her settle into the steaming water. The smile she suddenly gives him is shaky and uncertain, but it is the first one that she has given him in too long. Sasuke moves for the ties of his clothes before finally joining her.

He settles against the rock wall, pulling her closer, his fingers touching her hair carefully and pushing it to the side. The hot springs, Sasuke decides, may not have been the best of choices as he studies the nape of her neck. He isn't quite able to restrain himself enough to stop from pressing his mouth to the pale skin, and he takes comfort when she doesn't tense quite as much as he expected her to.

Then he turns his attention to a brush and hair wash to his right, and turns his mind away from her soft curves and towards his task. Sasuke takes his time as he pulls the brush through the pink strands. He has always liked her hair, the way the ends of her hair would tickle his neck when she rested against him.

It has been too long since he has felt her hair against his bare skin.

His mouth curls into a slight smirk when she moans softly and arches her neck so that it is easier to massage the hair wash into her scalp. He tried not to think of how she must look with her eyes closed and her cheeks flushed, and concentrates on keeping the soap out of her eyes when he rinses the suds from her tresses. He has always preferred her hair when wet, it is a much darker pink, like a dusky rose, and he likes the way it clings to her skin.

It is quite sudden when Sakura sighs and leans against him, her head resting against his chest, her hair and skin so wonderfully wet.

Two months is a long time to go without, and it has been over that time. He decides perhaps that he might be forgiven when he grips her waist and turns her carefully in his arms. Her eyes are lidded, but the contentment in her eyes is changing to that wary uncertainty.

He tries to be careful, to see if her breathing becomes too erratic. To see if she fights him.

He doesn't quite understand her sudden fear of anything other than his casual touches.

They had reassured him that there were no signs, no evidence of her being touched _that_ way. Even if such a thing is enough to make him sick, Tsunade had insisted on it. _It is used_, she had said, _as a means of torture and punishment in other parts of the world._

He buries his nose in the crook of her naked neck, closing his eyes when she tenses. Her light scent is soothing and helps to ease the sick feeling at the endless possibilities of what could have happened before they had found her.

By the gods, she had been _naked.__  
_

On an impulse he reaches down, touching her arm lightly as he searches for her hand. He grips it lightly as he entwines his fingers with hers. The eyes that are suddenly looking at him are a dull green, almost a jade, it is a color that he never wanted to get used to, but her fingers twitch in a way that must be convulsive. He wraps an arm around her waist to pull her closer, and even though she goes so very still, he keeps his eyes firmly on hers, forcing her to do nothing but to stare back as he brings their hands up between them. His eyes never leave hers even as he presses a kiss to the back of her hand. It is not quite delight but rather a sort of relief when her cheeks color slightly, even despite the fact that they have done so much more in the past and that they are sitting in a bathing chamber in water that is slowly becoming lukewarm, completely naked and pressed intimately against each other.

Sasuke takes this as a sign that maybe—just maybe—she won't run from him this time.

Her mouth is hesitant when he kisses her, but she slowly begins to return it when his hand curls around her hip to rub her back reassuringly. She angles her neck a bit so that it is easier for him to touch her. She shakes slightly as he lifts her so that her back is resting comfortably against the pool's edge. It is only when his fingers tangle in her long, unbound hair that she moans, and she responds more earnestly. Her slender fingers reach up and this time do not tremble when she touches his cheek.

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**Bound will (possibly) be on break next week while I finally update Chapter Three of The Inheritance. My apolgies for the inconvenience and the late update.**


	15. Evil Aniki

**This is a little bit different from anything that I have done for Bound as of it, and signifies a [brief] break from the angst.**

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Bound**

**Evil Aniki**

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He has always considered his little brother to be a special sort of fool, certainly of a different breed than Naruto, but even Itachi is surprised with how poorly Sasuke has behaved in the past few months. Not being informed of his wife's previous state is really a poor excuse for his brother's incompetence. He has taught Sasuke to always pay attention to those small details, even the ones that seem to be of no real importance.

It is actually quite beyond even his comprehension as to how his brother was so unable to make sense of the facts. Even given the seclusion that many of the clan have forced upon her, stress is a ridiculous means of explaining the sickness that only ever seemed to last for a few hours.

Sasuke should have at least heard the term 'morning sickness'.

Itachi waits until Sasuke and Sakura are out of sight before fitting the saddle on his own horse as he prepares to follow them.

Sakura, he notices, seems to have more color today. He is not quite sure what to make of his newest relation, and is rather unimpressed with the way she had allowed herself to be captured so easily. Although a dead body was found near her where she was clutching Sasuke's sword is impressive, he supposes. She is unimpressive, but has scars that many of them can not understand, this he acknowledges.

Itachi, at least, understands better than his brother the purpose of the silver rose by the bay window.

He doubts that Sasuke has even taken any notice of it whatsoever.

He slows his horse from a gallop when they come into view, a mottled blur of pink, black, orange, and gold. How interesting. _Naruto. _There are times when Itachi wishes that he has an explanation for the fondness that he feels for the healer's son. It is not love, or anything sordid of that nature. Perhaps it is the way he enjoys the way the young man always seems so uncomfortable around him, and yet refuses to allow any of the insults from the rest of the clan to go by without saying a word.

It isn't until he is much closer that he reigns in his horse to a walk. There is no need to be overtly cautious today. Although his intent was to see how much his brother had gotten over his excruciatingly long bout of stupidity concerning his wife, Itachi finds that he would rather look forward to…_talking_ to Naruto.

He does not tie up his horse when he dismounts (it is better to let the animal roam free) and moves closer until he can see the three of them clearly.

It is unusual, he decides, to see Sakura and Sasuke together in such a fashion. She seems happy, content, at his brother's side. Which is odd, considering what his mother has told him considering how long his brother had seemed to neglect her. The way her fingers are interlocked with Sasuke's is almost…_quant. _

As Itachi continues to watch them in silence, he pays particular attention to the way Sakura talks to Naruto in an unusually animated fashion, her cheeks flushed, even as Sasuke keeps an arm wrapped passively around her waist. He detects a weakness in the venomous glare that his brother gives to his old friends. So foolish to be jealous over something as trivial as a smile.

A plan forms as the couple finally decide to take their leave of Naruto. Sakura's smile is shy and uncertain as she awkwardly tries to get on the horse. She is awkward, he notices, even with Sasuke's help. The blonde says something and she blushes, her skin nearly crimson, as his brother presses a kiss to her collarbone before they leave.

Their relationship is fragile he realizes, and never has he anticipated torturing his brother like this before.


	16. Frayed Bindings

**Bound**

**Frayed Bindings**

It is in the gardens, in a glade behind the large oaks that hides them completely from view, that he is finally able to touch her again. She seems uncertain and it might be because of the fear of being caught. Sasuke can't imagine why. After all, it shouldn't matter. This is his family's estate. No one is permitted to be in these gardens without his family's permission and it is only those that are newly wed or are feeling unsually romantic that ever dare to venture over here.

A soft kiss to the corner of her mouth distracts her from the words that he is not really paying attention to. He smirks at the uncertainty that he sees. It is certainly not something that he would care to see, but her eyes are brighter and it is has been almost a week since he has last seen her cry.

Sasuke tries very hard not to think of the reason why her green eyes seem brighter and there are days when she almost seems happy.

He tells himself not to worry about the time she is spending with Naruto and that he is only helping in his own way. His friend is just the distraction that she needs when Fugaku summons him away from her to work on the agreement with the Hyuugas. He doesn't quite trust her to be alone just yet.

He doesn't quite trust the dobe, yet he is given very little choice in the matter.

Sasuke pushes these thoughts to back of his mind and instead concentrates on the soft curves that are draped in a rather clinging silk. It is rather easily removed, a few simple ties are binding the gown. Although he has never cared to pay attention to women's clothing, he rather appreciates the soft cream silks and the way the gold embroidery seems to help emphasize all the dips and curves of her form. He particularly appreciates the way the gold seems to taper down her waist and accentuates the flair of her hips.

"Sakura." She shivers and presses closer to him when his teeth scrape lightly against the shell of her ear and her slender fingers wrap around his wrist. She is still talking, but it is difficult to remember what it is that they had been discussing.

This could have been because he really didn't have any intention of talking in the first place. He didn't care what embarrassing childhood stories Naruto told her. He is much more interested in undoing the silken knot that is keeping the back of her gown closed.

He can't quite stop the way his blood heats when she turns her neck and presses her mouth to the base of his throat. Sasuke groans against her skin as he pulls her even closer. His hand trails up the back of her dress to tangle in the silk knot and he briefly considers pulling it apart. It is only the noise that she makes in the back of her throat that stops him from ripping the dress.

That noise is really very distracting, very enticing, but he stops fumbling with the dress to press a kiss to her partly open mouth that can almost be called desperate. He really doesn't care to leave tonight. Even though his mother has managed to clear his schedule for tomorrow, and he knows that he will be back before she will be awake, he still doesn't care to leave her.

Even though he is doing this for her, Sasuke is surprised to find that he rather desperately does not want to leave her.

Sakura moans against him mouth, her incoherent words stolen from their kiss, and it is nearly his undoing. He carefully—silently—slides a kunai from the strap at his thigh and uses the honed edge to cut the silk ties. There are other means to preserve her modesty when they need to return to their rooms, he reasons, as he slowly slides the material down, pressing his mouth to her bare skin.

So pale for someone who grew up in such a sun-scorched environment…Sasuke is not sure if he would prefer her skin to darken or not. He pushes that thought from his mind (_after all the Uchiha are a pale clan and if she were tan then it would just be another thing that would keep from feeling like she belongs)_and instead concentrates on the sweetness of her skin and her softness as he runs his hands over her curves as he pulls down the dress.

"Sasu—"

She starts to say his name in a tone will undoubtedly call attention so he wraps an arm around her, pulling her close, (_"Annoying."_ The word brushes against her skin, just underneath her jaw and caresses her neck) then he is kissing her and once again his world has narrowed to where it is just the two of them. There is something almost painful about her sweetness, about the way she has suffered.

Sakura makes that wonderful noise in the back of her throat and his blood burns as he concentrates on nothing more than the feel of her. Her slender hands grip his arms as she responds, and suddenly he thinks that she doesn't quite care that she is half naked or that her body is still discolored with faint bruises and marks. (They are hardly visible, but the faint sight is enough to make his gut clench with something that can only be called guilt.)

He nips at her slightly swollen bottom lip, eager—now that she no longer flinches away from his touch, from a guilt that was never hers to cling to—to remind her of why they never slept with clothes on.

He is hot and heavy when her hands start to do an exploration of their own, and she makes more of those wonderful, whimpering noises in the back of her throat. For a moment he looks away from eyes that have darkened to a raw emerald and his gaze trails over her breasts and it lingers on the bruise that still spans across her belly. It is one of the few that have yet to fade completely, and it is only the soft kiss—something she has never done before—that she presses to his collar bone that distracts him from more of that gut-eating guilt.

_They hurt her. She still hurts. _The thought is fleeting and hardly new, but he realizes that this is what he needs to overcome his weakness and to reinforce his decision to forgo the warmth of their bed for this one hunt.

He is too distracted and she is now going for the ties and clasps of his clothes with the same fevered searching that he had, only moments ago. Sakura responds a little more urgently when he kisses her. It is a distracted kiss, clumsy as she obviously struggles with dividing her attention with his kiss and removing the last of his clothing, her fingers brushing against him in a manner that has him hissing.

Desperate. That is the only way that he can describe how she seems to curl and cling to him when he thrusts into her. She is moaning, and curling, and crying as he eases out of her only to feel the heat that suddenly surrounds him.

Sasuke finds his release much too quickly, he has hardly even brought Sakura to her peak, when he spills into her. In that brief moment of bliss and contentment even as she curls around him clings, her teeth scraping against his skin in a sudden desperate manner, Sasuke has a thought that makes little sense.

Does she fear getting pregnant again?

The thought is fleeting, incomprehensible, and his lovely, pink haired wife and her brilliant, dark eyes the color of raw emeralds does something that she has never done before.

She seduces and she teases him back to the torment of arousal. The way she continues to scrape her teeth against his skin, to entice, is confusing until finally, she seems to find whatever it is that she is searching for.

Sakura collapses against his chest, her arms wrapping around his waist. She closes her eyes, her head tucked securely under his chin as she drifts off into that place that he can not follow despite the chill the air brings to their naked skin.

XXX

It is nearly an hour before he is able to lift her into his arms without his legs buckling. He covers her form with their clothes as he dashes towards the hidden passage that leads to their rooms. She stirs only when he has settled her on their bed, her eyes opening sleepily to look at him as her lips curl into a small smile of contentment.

There are still several hours before he must leave and he orders the servants to bring a hot meal for him and to have one ready for Sakura when she wakes. He eats quickly and with little ceremony.

This time Sasuke does not join her in bed. He pulls a chair to her side and studies her peacefully sleeping face, curling the ends of her long hair around his fingers. He wonders at the silkiness, but is grateful that he is allowed this moment of silent contemplation before he must leave. His gaze leaves her face to study a spot of flushed skin, a fleeting symbol of their passion.

He wonders if there is a way to mark her as an Uchiha, and a way to eradicate the frayed bounds of the Haruno.

For now it is only the faint marking that he leaves on her shoulder and throat that marks her as one of the Uchiha.

And the Uchiha protect and avenge their own.

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**Well, this turned out to be a little longer then normal…**

**I know some of you have commented on how you like that Sasuke doesn't enter Avenger mode. Unfortunately, given what he just discovered, I don't think we can call him Sasuke if he doesn't try to get something now that he understand the full scope of what Sakura went through. **

**My apologies in advance to those of you who will be disappointed by next week's chapter.  
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	17. A Hint of Obsession

**My apologies for the lack of update last week. This has been one of those cases of life getting in the way. Things have gotten really crazy at work, my computer crashed, my back up computer is a piece o'crap, and I don't have the money for a new one. **

**My writing this week and last week was sporadic, and I've been having difficulty with emo boy and his vengeance. So as a bribe for my beta and an apology here is something a little different.**

**I will attempt to do a double update next week to make up for last week, but I can't make any promises.**

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**Bound  
Omake**

_**A Hint of Obsession**_

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It is raining when they arrive.

Of all of his foolish brother's friends and acquaintances, Naruto is the only one who lingers behind that night. It is a small group that went to attack the Haruno caravan, and Itachi believes that it is a rather pointless way of getting revenge.

Revenge, vengeance…to some it is a living thing; a beast that hunts and thirsts and is never satisfied if its target is not suffering. When the one who vengeance is sought against dies, it is then hard for the beast to find its purpose.

Perhaps that is the only purpose that Sasuke has and the only one that he ever will have. Sometimes Itachi thinks that his baby brother is perhaps a bit too delicate for the harsh realities of war. For this war. He always takes each death too personally and always fights too hard when his men die. It is a mind set that has given them the edge in many battles, and the heir knows that it is the distraction from this need for vengeance, from this beast, that their mother had been hoping Sasuke would find some peace.

It worked longer than Itachi had thought, but now that ugly beast, though significantly tempered, was baring its fangs once more. All of this, of course, is rather insignificant in comparison to the dilemma that Itachi suddenly finds himself facing.

She has always been a thorn in his side. With her glossy hair that she keeps unbound past her waist (a waist that tapers off in that perfect sort of way) and her saucy smirk. Her seduction is a subtle kind.

He watches, but he is not seething. (He is never one to seethe. The attentions that this woman bestows upon the unsuspecting is insulting, but it is never quite enough to make him to _seethe_ with internal angst.)

Her target this time is so very unsuspecting. He only grins as she smiles shyly—_coyly—_her pale skin flushing a delicate pink as the lady_—slut—_blinks at Naruto from under the curtain of her bangs.

Naruto—_sweet Naruto­—_is so innocently oblivious as Hinata Hyuuga wrings her hands and stammers. To the casual observer, someone who is so naïve to her ways, she would appear nervous and horribly shy as Naruto's grin brightens and he offers her his arm. Itachi is not deaf to the whispers of servants who wonder if she will faint again.

_Oh_, but just like him, she is so _very_ good at what she does.

The milky eyed tart stumbles and gasps when Naruto moves a little too quickly—oh, but he is such a dear—and his brother's best friend moves closer to steady her and she—not quite so innocently—brushes her abnormally sized breasts against his arm.

Itachi is so well practiced in this little dance of jealousy and seduction that he plays with Hinata that he reveals nothing of his inner turmoil—_angst_—as the two walk away.

If he could observe this clinically the he would be able to acknowledge the facts and the benefits as they are:

_1. Her loose morals matter very little when her pale eyes so perfectly compliment the way her pitch locks frame her perfectly pale face. It matters little when she has pedigree that matches his own.__ This doesn't make sense to me. What are you trying to say?_

_2. Despite their dwindling numbers the Harunos are __encroaching__ on the borders of the land controlled by his family. An alliance with the Hyuugas is essential if they can expect to gain the upper hand._

_3. Mikoto has expressed, more __than__ once, her willingness to adopt Naruto if he were to marry Hinata.__!_

_4. An adoption would have the horrible ramification of making Naruto his kin. _(Even Itachi refuses to ponder on illicit pleasures that could come from these circumstances.)

_5. Naruto is adorable._

He cares for none of these facts and despises their very existence. (The last one is the only exception.) This once he does not care for the logical and would rather prefer to gouge out Hinata's eyes until the pale perfection is stained the satisfying crimson of his blood and his family's jutsu burns her flawless skin.

Unfortunately Itachi has never been quite one to give into these desires. Perhaps, if he knew where he stood in Naruto's affections…

It isn't until they have disappeared from his view that he turns away. He allows himself a rare pleasure, a forlorn sigh and looks forward to the time after dinner when he will join Naruto in the hot springs.

That, at least, will give him some time to pretend that the boy with the bright shining eyes is his. If only for a moment.

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**This was more fun to write ****than**** it had any right to be.**

**If this came across as a bit of Hinata bashing it was not intended that way. Remember Itachi-chan is in his own little world where she is nothing more ****than**** the evil seductress and Naruto her helpless prince(ss). **


	18. Ume

**Note: Ume means 'plum blossom'.**

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****Bound  
Ume**

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He still remembers the first Haruno that he killed. It was a youth only a few years younger than himself. He had been twelve. He can still clearly recall the way the boy's eyes had widened, as if he was so sure of his strength, that he could not comprehend how easily a keen blade could cut through skin and bone to pierce a heart.

The boy had been a son of a lower noble house. A poor fighter that had deluded himself with the extent of his strength.

It seems to be a necessity for that clan. There are times when he wonders why the war has lasted as long as it has, but he supposes it is because of geniuses such as Shikamaru, men with an intellect of the type that the Uchihas rarely see.

Shikamaru allowed him to come as a courtesy and Sasuke can't help the feeling of disappointment at the sight of the Haruno caravan. The size of the horse drawn carts and valuables they carry is pathetically small. The guards are few and he is quite certain that even Naruto would recognize it for the trap that it is.

There is another caravan nearly twenty miles to the north. It is supposed to be much larger and its loss is something that will tip the balance of the war in their favor once more. His father hadn't waited more then a day after Sakura's capture before renewing the attacks against the borders. He was supposed to be the fifth of the team heading to that caravan, but then Shikamaru had approached him, warning of a second caravan that was a thinly veiled trap.

Sometimes Sasuke wondered why Shikamaru has yet to see Sakura. He wondered if maybe the tactician that was adopted into the Nara clan felt guilt. Shikamaru had always spoken of a younger cousin who was a bit different from her sisters that he had always regretted not bringing with him. The strange look that Sasuke observed on his face whenever he happened to be in the same room as Sakura, as rare as those instances were, was always the look of one who wants desperately to apologize but was unable to.

So perhaps this was his way of making it up to his blood relative. Perhaps by giving Sasuke the chance for the vengeance that he so desperately craves, Shikamaru would be able to look at Sakura the next time he passes her in the hall.

There is movement below him and a pair of green-gold eyes that reflect amber in the moonlight are peering up at him. A slim form, possibly a dancer, dressed in the layers of light cloth that many desert travelers prefer.

His hand is on the hilt of sword without a conscious thought, metal scraping against metal as the alarm is raised.

XXX

She watches, her eyes almost emotionless as he lunges, his blade slicing through her kinsmen with a frightening ease. She tugs at the bindings that keep her cloak wrapped securely around her form as her brother cries out. The sound is gurgled, almost bubbling, and blood leaks out of the corner of his mouth. Ume's mouth twists in displeasure at the way her brother's green eyes fly open, his look is one of panic.

It really is foolish, she thinks, for him to look so terrified as he struggles to breathe, more blood flowing over his lips. It is, after all, their purpose. She had agreed to this mission fully expecting to die. The least her brother could do for his family is to accept it with grace.

She wonders, what exactly, does her elder sister see in this man who so ruthlessly murders their kin? A prince with eyes that burn crimson.

Ume tilts her head as she considers the killer in front of her. There must be something that Sakura sees in him, something that is hidden from the rest of the world.

How else could she bear to have his child?

Ume pities the sister that she could have been close to if she had cared enough. Maybe...

She shakes her head, her long hair shaking free as she undoes the clasp of her cloak and the material pools at her throat. Her master, the one who taught her to be different from the rest of her sisters, had always told her that the battlefield is no place for regrets.

Ume knows that she could have taken the time to know Sakura better, to understand the woman who always seems to accept things as they are too easily.

Sakura's husband is gasping heavily and the air is thick with the stench of death. His eyes are glazed, unfocused, and almost wild.

Ume banishes any wonders as to why her sister could possibly have lain with the man that is covered in blood before her. Suddenly it doesn't matter because this man, this Uchiha is even less then that. His look is of one who only cares for the kill. He only came here to spill Haruno blood. She draws her sword and moved away from the shadows.

She will not die so easily for one who has no regards for others. She is not thinking of the elder sister that she should protect from a man who is obviously a monster. She is not thinking of how she must protect her family from him.

All Ume knows is that he is pitiful, too wretched to be allowed to live.


	19. Moete

**Bound  
Moete**

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According to the definition of it when I used it in DGL, moete is Japanese for "to burn".

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"So is this all an Uchiha amounts to?"

The voice is husky and almost sounds sexless, but it is the sound of a sword being unsheathed that has him reacting.

His lip curls into a snarl as he anticipates his sword sliding through bone and muscle. The slim figure is still obscured by the flickers of light cast by broken lanterns and burning wagons. The air is thick with the smell of smoke and blood and it is getting difficult to see.

She doesn't give him a warning. Her footsteps are nearly soundless as she vanishes from the senses. Sasuke has never been more thankful for those vicious training sessions with his brother, where Itachi has forced him to fight blind folded, as he is now. The vicious strike of the dancer's blade surprises him, and he nearly staggers under the unexpected strength.

He digs his feet into the ground and pushes back as savagely as possible before turning and fleeing. He has never been one to flee from battle but the thickness of the smoke makes it difficult to see and even though it is a simple matter for him to fight in pitch darkness, he finds himself wishing that he could see the one survivor.

It is nothing so noble and self sacrificing as wanting to see the face of those who has killed. It is more of a curiosity. Her steps are light as she chases after him, moving with the speed of a truly skilled fighter. It is not unheard of for the Harunos to disguise women as assassins along the borders, but they are usually very little more than sickly whores who have never taken a life. This woman is strong and skilled. She has training.

He slides into a defensive crouch as he takes position outside of the range of the fires and the thick smoke. The moon is full tonight and the light that falls down is bright.

He sees her slender form moving through the smoke and she rushes him, striking hard.

Even his brother would concede that this woman is good, and Sasuke is thankful that the Harunos are foolish enough to keep someone with this much skill away from the front lines.

He pushes back at her blade, meeting her savage attack, and he kicks his foot out, catching the back of her shins. She stumbles back, a gasp escaping her as she tumbles to the ground.

The dancer is good, but not good enough to fight against the unexpected.

Sasuke moves towards her, raising his sword and angling it so that it will plunge through her neck. Maybe it is the oddness of fighting against a Haruno woman but he hesitates ever so slightly before striking the killing blow. It is not much but it gives her a chance to raise her head and toss her hair back.

Suddenly it is very hard for him to breathe.

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**You'll have to forgive the suddenness of this chapter. I will be posting the conclusion within the next day or so. Hope you enjoyed.**


	20. Odoriko

**Warning: This chapter is a bit violent and bloody. Proceed at your own risk.**

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**Bound  
Odoriko**

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Foolish little brother. It is a common enough phrase in his home. His brother taunts him with it daily (thankfully never when Sakura is around) and Naruto says it just to piss him off. But it isn't until Sasuke is struggling to fend off the violent attacks of this…this _fraud_ that he can actually appreciate the truth to the phrase.

He is first drawn to the sheer, gauzy material that is wrapped around this woman's lithe form. Several layers of dark blue and silver are wrapped around her thighs, hips, waist, breasts…the layers must be impossible, but he can't but think that it isn't enough.

He can't help but think back to another woman, with long pink dresses and green eyes that seem too large for her face, wearing something so similar. Even as he stumbles back, blocking the keen edge of her blade with the clumsy grace of a child, he sees the differences.

Soft. It is a word that he always associates with his wife. Her hair all curls and silk, almost sensual as the long locks drift over his bare skin. When she is sad her eyes seem much too big for her face, rimmed with red. But when she smiles, they light up and he always has to fight the urge to crush her to his chest, to run his hands over her curves and to touch the smoothness of her skin.

This woman is the opposite. Her eyes have a touch of gold and are hard and cold. Her face is all angles and sharpness. Her pink hair is flat, almost oily, and straight. Her curves are few and it is only the clothing that accentuates what little she has. The sheerness of her clothing disgusts him. It would be a sweet, torturous seduction on his wife.

It is so easy to mistake her body for that of a boy's, but it is her face despite its sharp angles and hardness that makes it difficult to breath. In recollection he will see that there is so very little to remind him of his wife, of his reason for killing all of her kin, but her eyes are green, her hair is pink, and underneath the light layer of dust on her skin she is pale.

It is just enough to distract him enough, even as he cannot help but stare at this stranger that one of her attacks hits home and slices into his thigh.

She is trained and strong, but he has fought more battles than she ever will.

He curses himself for a fool. Although Sakura rarely speaks of her family—taboo—she has mentioned the number of sisters that she has…or had. He still doesn't understand why she uses the past tense.

Why did it never occur to him that she had sisters who looked similar to her?

"Who the hell—who are you?" It comes out weak, a little more than a gasp, but he is trying to desperately to block her attacks to feel humiliated.

The woman's too thin lips twist in an ugly way and her voice, like her appearance, is such a stark contrast to Sakura's soothing lilt. It grates, like a jagged blade that has fallen into disuse. Like a jagged blade, it sticks and startles him enough to put just a little more power behind his block and his footing become a bit surer.

"Do I look familiar, demon?" She snarls, her oily hair brushing against her cheek. "Do you see something in me that you know? Something familiar?"

When she lunges it is too wide, too soon. It is the blind strike of rage and anger and is so very easy to dodge. In that moment, as he wonders at the viciousness in this woman's voice, he pushes back harder then he intends and the tables are turned. Suddenly she is stumbling like a child, but she never stops her rough taunting.

"It can't be those you just killed? Couldn't possibly be _them_. Maybe something a little closer, something a little _dear_."

Sasuke can hear his brother's voice calling him a fool, but he is unable to stop himself from letting the memory of his bruised, broken, _beautiful_ wife fuel his attack. It is a glancing blow that misses and it is only the burning pain in his thigh—how strange that it seemed to disappear as he studied this woman—that allows him to miss her answering attack. He stumbles forward, her blade cutting uselessly above his shoulder.

He wonders, if perhaps he wouldn't have gone for the dagger hidden in his shin guard if it wasn't for her next word.

"Sometimes I think she deserved it. Maybe not the beating, but no good could have come from a child of _yours._"

He remembers the pain and the emptiness and the _not knowing_ and doesn't hesitate to plunge the short dagger into her belly. The gauzy material tears a whisper, and is covered by a wet gasp and the sound of her blade clattering to the ground.

It is strange but he thinks back to that first kill, that first boy, and how similar this woman seems.

Sasuke feels oddly detached as she struggles to get up, struggles to reach for the blade that he kicks out of arms reach, over to a shriveled tree.

She laughs, the sound bitter and wet as she coughs up blood. Her green-gold eyes are too bright for one who should be dying. He looks down at where the blade is sticking out of and notices dispassionately that he missed the kidneys.

Chuck would be so disappointed.

"You wanted my name didn't you?"

He doesn't care for his name, and now that she has brought up his reason for being here, Sasuke finds that he no longer cares who this woman is.

This is what he tells himself. It is so very hard to ignore the side of him that continues to go over how different she is from Sakura.

"Ume." Oddly, he thinks of Neiji. "Not so similar from Sakura am I? She's the cherry and I'm the plum." She coughs up more blood and laughs as if she has said something particularly witty.

"Plum wine is sour." _Sakura is sweet. Soft._

Her chin is bright scarlet now from laughing so much and yet she does not stop. "So how will you do it, demon? How will you tell my elder sister that you killed her only twin?"

"You are nothing like her." He says harshly as he stands up. He picks up his sword and turns to her and the blood that is starting to pool around her slack body.

He feels as if he isn't quite moving of his own accord when he spits at her. Then his sword is moving down, down, until it cutting through neck and muscle, slowly.

This woman, Ume, tries to scream and the sound is gargled as her face distorts. Then she can no longer scream, no longer speak. Her green eyes just stare back at him.

He doesn't know how long he stands there, staring at the severed head. It is only when the sun starts to rise, the pale golden light warming his back that he feels a growing horror of what he has done.

And then all he can do is scream.

XXX

He feels horrible and vile.

He wonders how she will ever bear to look at him again. Sasuke doesn't meet the others at the check point, and it is difficult to move himself from the dying smoke of the burning caravan, the burnt corpses, and the severed head.

By late mourning he has hidden in the thick vegetation. He can do little else but drink from a clear stream nearby and purge himself, trying to rid of the vision of the severed head.

By evening he is calmer and he needs very much to hold his wife. He needs her slender fingers to brush at his scalp, smooth away his hair. He needs her to kiss him and tell him she could never hate him.

Never.

The night is late and black when he is finally able to push the image of that severed head to the back of his mind and concentrate on Sakura and getting _home._

XXX

Sasuke looks forward to standing under the scalding water of the shower, submersing his body until his skin blisters and burns. He needs to scrub at his flesh into it is raw and bleeding.

He needs to wrap himself around Sakura, feel her warmth, and touch her silky hair that curls (not straight) until he can forgot about the woman who had refused to die.

He has only passed through the gates when he hears the soft murmur of voices. Sasuke turns his head in passing curiosity, not really caring who is out in the courtyard at this time of night. The gold embroidered cloak, the scarlet hued dressing gown, and the tight plait of pink hair has him stopping, and all thoughts of cleansing himself in a manner that is sickeningly close to self flagellation stops when he sees just who, exactly, his wife is talking to.

If it had been anyone than him then he might not react the way he does. He might not let the rage that has not quite cooled get the better of him. If it were Naruto a punch would suffice. Even if it had been Itachi or Shikamaru he might have done nothing more than sulk and glower.

If it had been anyone other than him.

If it had been anyone other than a son of one of his father's uncles, a man with glossy salt and pepper hair. A man who dresses in finery far richer than his station should allow. If it had been anyone other than a man who is known for ruining expectant brides. If it had been anyone other than the man who is always at the center of gossip.

If it had been anyone other than Pansuke.

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In case you can't tell I am just having a block when it comes to titles right now. Odoriko means dancer.

Some of you are probably wincing over Pansuke's name. I was going to use Masato as that name is my current obsession for evil perverts now. I blame it on Rumiko Takahashi. Masato is the name of a villain in her new Rin-ne manga. I expect he will come back. But according to Masato himself, his name is written in a way that means evil and petty. My beta advised against this, so I started looking for the Japanese word for man-whore. When I couldn't find that I went for whore, figuring I could change it to suit my needs. Unfortunately, one of the words was pansuke. Of course, it was so close to Sasuke I couldn't resist.

Personally, I think our favorite attention whore didn't care for the way this chapter ended.

Also, uber kudos to anyone who gets the kidneys and Chuck reference. It's from a fanfiction but not one from the Naruto fandom. Anyone who gets it will get a one page preview of a fic of their choice.

Hint: It's from a fic that I have recommended before. Just not in the a/n of this fic.

Well, this about catches us up in the chapter postings. This week's chapter will be posted Sunday instead of Friday.


	21. Remorse

**Bound  
Remorse**

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"Did you know anyone named Ume?"

Sakura looks up from her mirror where she is carefully braiding her hair and turns to regard Sasuke. His actions all night have been puzzling her. First she woke to find their bed cold, to find him gone. It had been the first time since…

Sakura pauses in mid thought as she realizes that there has not been a single time when she has not woken up with his arms wrapped securely around her. This morning was the first.

She can only stare at him, blinking dumbly at the suddenness of this realization. The part of her that still fears her role as 'Lady Uchiha' flails and panics at the possibility that he might be tired of her so soon. The other part of her, the part that is still slowly gaining strength but is not strong enough to overcome her weakness can only ponder as to why her husband is acting so…odd.

She doesn't understand the almost violent reaction he had to Pansuke or the way that his eyes had bled red. Maybe he is wary of something that she doesn't quite know about. If that is the case then she will keep her silence, but even that doesn't quite explain the way he refused to look at her. It doesn't explain the way he looks too pale, even now.

The strength and courage that he is starting to give her lets her appreciate the way the wet spikes of his hair stick to the back of his neck as he makes his way towards her.

"Sakura."

She studies him for a moment. He is still having difficulties holding her gaze, and the feminine Haruno in her worries if this is the beginning of the end.

"I had a twin by that name, yes."

"A twin?"

There is something in his voice that sounds so stricken that it has her abandoning her hair as she moves toward him. She can feel some of her old anguish pricking in her belly when he takes a step back as she reaches out to touch him. Less than a month ago she might have clung to the anguish. Even now she can feel the tears pricking at the corners of her eyes and the desire to flee the room nearly has her choking on a sob.

Then she remembers the way he held her after he learned the truth. Sakura grits her teeth and steps forward until she is cupping his cheek. She is left with the rather sudden impression that if Sasuke had been any less then who he was, he would have backed away against the wall.

"Sasuke?" Instinct has her keeping her voice soft. "What's wrong?"

His hand reaches up and grasps the one that she is pressing to cheek. The room is so very still before he finally speaks. "Were you close?"

Sakura remembers Ume with her sharp tongue and haughty demeanor and gives a small smile. She does not know what has brought this on or why he even knows her sister's name, and she knows that she will probably never want to know. So for his sake, Sakura ignores the brittle look on his face and tells him the truth. It is a rather fortunate thing, she thinks, that the truth is what he wants to hear.

"There was only one member of my family that I was ever close to, Sasuke, and it was none of my siblings."

She leads him to their bed like he has done for her so many times. Her family has always been a taboo, and Sakura is surprised when she feels none of that cold horror like she did when she told Sasuke what her uncle had done. He eases onto the bed, his head resting against the pillow, and she curls next to his warmth. It is only when his arm settles over her waist that she threads her fingers through his and rests her head against his chest so that she can hear the steady thudding of his heart.

"I want to say I was happy and content there but I don't think it is possible anymore." She wants to tell him that love is not something that existed for her until she came here, but it is not the time. She knows that he cares for her, but she is not certain that love is a word that he will ever utter. So Sakura leaves it unsaid as she tries to find the right words to explain what her family meant to her. What Ume had been. She doesn't tell him how there are things that she has here that she would never had if she had stayed home.

"Things were pleasant, but I don't think any of us felt a particular feeling of family. Not like your family does." She closes her eyes when Sasuke starts to undo her half bound hair. "Ume…she—"

"She was the sister I liked least."

He pulls the blanket over their form and curls locks of her hair around his fingers. Something about the way he is acting reminds her of a child and if she wasn't so warm and content to just have his arms wrapping around her it would concern her. Sakura does not think about this, and it does not occur to her that maybe, just maybe, there are times when Sasuke might want to curl and hide away from the rest of the world.

Instead she concentrates on telling him what it was like growing with a twin like Ume. She tells him how she was always being called the pretty one and always wishing that she had the back bone to be more like her younger sister. Her little twin who always had a talent for dancing. Ume was never very feminine, she tells him, and she never liked dresses, but she had the slender limbs of a world class dancer. Ume had the chance to do what no woman in the royal family had ever done, to live a life free of the influence of men and their tempers, and she had discarded it.

Sakura tells him how Ume had taken up the blade, determined to be more useful to their father than other women in their family had ever been. Her voice goes quiet as she admits something that she has never really told anyone. She admits that the younger of the two of them did end up being the most useful to Ryuichi Haruno, the most favored.

She knows that she shouldn't feel so awful at the memory on that day when Ume was accepted into the covert operations squadron. She had been there, when Ume had showed their father a blade that Sakura supposed was magnificent. Ryuichi had turned such a critical eye to her then and told her that she was lucky that she looked nothing like Ume and that she was pretty. He had told her that it was really the only use she could offer.

Sakura tries to pull herself from those horrible memories and concentrate on her husband and why he is acting so strange. She tries to remind herself that she no longer needs to worry about that place and how things were never as perfect as she liked to believe. She has people who care about her here, genuinely. The arms wrapped around her tighten and she is reminded of the oddly possessive way Sasuke was acting earlier. She opens her mouth to ask him what brought on this sudden question, why he wasn't there this morning, why he pulled her away from his cousin like that—

Her words are swallowed with a kiss. There is an almost desperate edge to it that she knows should scare her. She wonders at the way he kisses her so thoroughly, causing her heart to pound in her chest, his fingers brushing against her bare arms. There are no playful nips against her lower lip and before she can even look up to him, Sasuke is pulling her up, pillowing his head on her breasts and clinging to her.

"Don't hate me."

The words are little more than a whisper, and she isn't quite sure she heard them. Sakura can only look down at her husband, the man who is still helping her heal, and be horribly confused at this sudden change.

On an impulse, she threads her fingers through his hair. Tears prick her eyes—_why is he acting this way?_—when he tucks his head firmly under her chin and whimpers.

She doesn't quite know what to say when, the next morning, he acts as if nothing happened.

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OMG! Another update so soon.

I am going to attempt to keep up the update schedule from this past week but I can't make any promises. This is actually an attempt to keep more focused on my novel so we shall see.


	22. A Jealous Little Boy

**Bound  
Jealous Little Boy**

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The next morning she wakes up to sweet kisses and fingers entangled in her hair. Her body is no longer curled around Sasuke. She is resting comfortably against his chest and for a moment she forgets about the confusion of the previous night and how brittle he seemed. Things are back to the way they should be. _His _arms are wrapped around _hers_, and that uncertainty and hint of fear is gone.

Sasuke stares down at her, his expression unreadable. Sometimes, it is in these moments that she feels as if she has so utterly and completely failed him. She should be able to read him, to understand why he is so upset.

Upset doesn't seem to be quite the right word.

Her mind still fuzzy, Sakura raises her arm, her fingertips reaching to brush his cheeks. He turns his head in just the last moment and instead her fingers graze his slightly chapped lips. Her cheeks heat when he gently grasps her hand and presses a burning kiss to the tip of each finger. When she finally gathers the courage to peek up at him, the unreadable expression is gone and is replaced by one that is warm and amused at her embarrassment.

She has to bite the inside of her cheek to stop herself from avoiding his gaze.

She opens her mouth to say something, but she is not sure what. There is something that is niggling at the back of her mind, something from last night, but it is rather difficult to think. It is far too early for her to be thinking properly and the heat of his mouth against the tips of her fingers has her stomach in knots of anticipation. She bites her lip to hold back a gasp when his hand searches under the ties of her sleeping gown to settle his hand on her hip.

Why does it seem that her husband is incapable of thinking of little else?

"Sasuke—" She supposes that she would be a bit irritated with him for the fingers gliding under her sleeping gown up her bare hip and the way that he is quite suddenly kissing her. Sakura tries to think past his touch and how very good it feels, but that is something that she has never been very good at. She knows that is has something to do with plum blossoms, maybe, and possibly bread…

Any certainty Sakura has on what it is that she needs to talk to her husband about disappears rather quickly because he is, once again, reaching for the ties of her gown. She knows that she needs to say something. As comfortable as this is—it is such a nice contrast to waking up to a cold bed with no one to tell her where her husband has disappeared to—a stomach grumbles a reminder that she ate little for dinner and this really needs to stop because—

She shivers when the cool morning air touches her suddenly bare skin, nearly moaning when he tugs gently at her lower lip. Distantly she notices something that is distinctly aggressive about Sasuke and the way his fingers are curling possessively around the curves of her bare skin and that is enough to be cause for concern but really, it feels so good that she can't quite bring herself to care properly.

She forgets how hurt she was to wake up alone in their bed. It was something she has never experienced before, and something that she never wants to experience again. She understands that as one of the heirs directly inline to inherit the Uchiha's territory he has other concerns before her. After all, it is not the first time for her not be able to wrap her arms around her husband as she slowly wakes, but it is the first time that it was unexpected.

Later, she promises herself, later she will make him promise to never leave their bed so unexpectedly without telling her again.

Sakura isn't quite sure how they wind up on the floor, and she really doesn't care. All she concentrates on as she responds is pushing the soft, worn material of his unbuttoned tunic off his shoulder.

His mouth is moving down, his tongue brushing over her skin in a way that has her shivering and pressing closer. Sasuke drags his teeth over the suddenly sensitized skin at the juncture of her throat causing her to whimper and rock against the hardness pressing against her.

He isn't quite entering her, the muscles beneath her fingers tense with his restraint as his fingers tangle with the long curls of her hair. He is teasing her, most likely savoring the feel, even though his breath is ragged, almost harsh, against her skin.

When enters her, despite the way she aches for that sense of completion that is sometimes like an addiction for her, it is unexpected. Sakura cries out, his name on her lips, and she is lost.

It is only later, when she curls against him on the floor under a thin blanket that she realizes her husband is very effective at distracting her.

XXX

"Sakura."

She blinks as she pushes open the glass door leading to the veranda. It is unusual to see anyone wandering among the orchids and roses, for someone to find their way through the winding hedgemaze, but there is Pansuke. His robes are a wonderful cream color embroidered with gold and ebony. The smile she gives him is reflexive and she moves forward, raising her hand in good morning.

His smile is warm and inviting and she finds herself drawn. Sakura doesn't question it, and wonders if perhaps it is because this is the one Uchiha that she feels comfortable around.

The suddenness of an arm snaking around her middle halts her progress and she looks up to see Sasuke, his eyes bloody and almost…furious?

For a moment she forgets about Pansuke and how his name makes her giggle, and is transfixed by the blackness that are swirling in the redness of his eyes.

"Pansuke." His eyes flick away from her to his cousin. "You returned."

Sakura blinks and wonders at the distaste in her husband's voice.

There is an intense feeling of something happening that she doesn't understand but then Sasuke is looking at her with those strange eyes and it really doesn't matter.

It is the scarlet eyes from memories that she always thought were dreams. There is a secret to the Uchiha, and it is something beyond their propensity towards fire and battle. She has stumbled across something important, something that needs to be protected.

Pansuke leaves so silently that she is hardly even aware of it, but something heavy has settled in the air. Before she can even understand what is strange…so _scary_ bout that thickness it occurs to her that she really needs to better understand Sasuke. She ignores the edge to his voice as he forbids her from approaching Pansuke.

Her touch quiets him, and he mutters something about how it is unimportant as long as she understands.

Sakura doesn't really hear any of this. She just continues to stare into those bloody eyes until they slowly fade to black.

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**For those who don't know, pan means bread.**

**In case any of you are wondering there will be a companion piece to this entitled Jealous Little Girl. It may or may not be what you expect. I am curious to see what people would expect Bound's Sakura to be jealous of.**

**Please note that Bound will be going on a brief hiatus for a week or two. These past two weeks at work have been long and hard so I need some time off from writing for a bit. I will post a note on my bio when you can expect it to come back. Sorry for the inconvenience.**


	23. A Peculiar Feeling

**Bound  
A Peculiar Feeling**

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"I don't want you speaking to Pansuke anymore."

His eyes are trained on the treaty in front of him, his eyes never ceasing from scanning the aged parchment. A potential treaty, she knows, with a clan that could possibly help in subduing the Harunos. The thought still leaves a sour aftertaste in the back of her throat, but it is not as bad as it used to be. Too many things have made her disregard the man that currently sits on the throne of that desert kingdom and any of his descendents as family. For a brief moment her mind turns to her younger twin. There was something so inexplicably odd in the way Sasuke had brought Ume's name up the other day. She can still remember that brittle look on his face. Sometimes she still sees it, but it takes very little effort on her part to chase it away. So she pushes aside thoughts of twisted familial ties, twins that have barely said less than a word to each other in nearly a decade, and her husband's occasional fragile demeanor.

Instead she watches him over the cover of her book. Her green eyes narrow as she considers the weight of his words and she searches for what it is that goes unsaid.

Something about the way her husband nearly _growled_ Pansuke's name leaves her with the most distinct impression that he would rather she not even _look_ at his cousin. Sakura finds confirmation in the way that his shoulders seem so very tense. A brief moment later he turns his head in the slightest angle so that he can meet her gaze from the corner of one of his dark eyes.

It is so very strange, how for the first time in her life, her fingers itch with the indignant urge to slap him. She has hit members of her birth family before but she was never very good with it and her hands always hurt terribly afterwards.

Sakura bites her lip and turns her eyes back to her book. A retort is settling on the tip of her tongue, but she chooses to concentrate on her tawdry romance novel.

She furrows her brow when she finds that she is unable to concentrate on the tale of Zelda, a devastatingly ordinary girl, suddenly thrust into a very unordinary situation all because of a man called Aiden. Personally, she prefers dark hair over Aiden's fairness and it is for this reason that maybe the twisted Aion appeals to her a bit more. But the interactions between Aion and Zelda seem a bit mild, while Aiden's constant annoyance at a woman who has control of a power that he had always dreamed of are amusing.

Sakura finds that she actually likes Zelda's character and her stubborn refusal to be molded into the ideal. It makes the reality of her own shortcomings all that more painful, but it is difficult for her to put the book down anymore.

She glances up again, a little—is it annoyance?—at the way that Sasuke's abrupt command has made it so very difficult for her to concentrate back on the novel. Aiden was just about to save Zelda from Aion too. She looks up over the edge of the book's cover once more, intending to glare at her husband and his command only to have her breath caught in her throat to find that he is watching her in a rather odd way. The heat that she is accustomed to is there, but it seems to be cooled, almost banked. Instead the look in his eyes is almost speculative, as if he has come to an important decision.

Then he is standing up, walking towards her, and Sakura is trying to swallow past the lump in her throat as he stands next to her chaise and holds out a hand to help her up.

"You are weak." The words are horribly blunt and so very Sasuke, and so very true.

She turns her head letting her hair fall forward to stop him from seeing the way that she suddenly has to blink away tears. It is true and it shouldn't be hurtful because, after all, she is not like Ume. She never had an interest to learn how to fight.

Never a need.

Sakura flinches suddenly at a shadow pain that comes somewhere from the vicinity of her belly. Then Sasuke is dragging her close; his warmth and the strength of his arm chases it away. The corners of her eyes still sting and she has to take several calming breathes before she can speak properly again.

"You are too vulnerable."

She wonders if, perhaps, there is somewhere that she can sleep tonight—somewhere away from her husband and his sudden reminder of her _weakness_.

"I think Naruto was right." Even as he pulls her closer to tuck her head under his chin she holds herself rigid. Despite the warmth and comfort that she can so normally find in his touch, his words leave her feeling very cold. "I will have to rectify that. I think, tomorrow I will teach you how to protect yourself."

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My apologies for the delay. Since I am currently work 7 days a week for the next 2-3 months and also attempting Nanowrimo updates may be sporadic. I can promise an update this coming Friday and possible the Friday after that. After that…check my bio.

Also if anyone is interested in the novel Sakura is reading let me know.


	24. Desceration

**Bound  
Desecration**

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He does not sleep well that night. He doesn't understand why she curls herself tightly into a ball. He has only seen her do that once, after she lost the baby. That in itself is enough to make him worry, but he can think of a single thing that could possibly—

It only solidifies his decision to keep Pansuke from his wife.

He has seen too many women, too many wives, so completely and utterly destroyed by his cousin. Women brutally divorced, disgraced…too many women that he had once called family had been reduced to little more than common street trash.

The thought and the images it brings to him has him reaching for Sakura despite the fact that she is sleeping as far away from him as their bed permits. She holds herself rigid, as if she is refusing to allow herself to lean into his touch. It hurts—briefly, he knows it is only because she doesn't understand—but he wraps his arm around her waist as he pulls her close. It is from Shisui that he has heard of the fate of the women that Pansuke ruins.

His cousin is so very clever about it.

Only those who see, those who watch, can take note of the way he lingers near certain women before the rumors start to arise. It is always just enough to start the whispers.

Yet, Sasuke tightens his arm around Sakura's waist despite her noise of protest, this is the first time that his cousin has targeted a wife so high in the clan. It is unusual and risky. Maybe it is because of the precarious position she holds among the rest of the clan. Very few outside of Sasuke's immediate family know that the Harunos had managed to sneak some of their own among the staff to drug everyone—except, annoyingly enough, Itachi—and steal away their own daughter. Too few—_too many_, he thinks—know of the child Sakura lost or how she suffered.

He moves his fingers through hers, refusing to let her go when she tries to squirm away (really, not a good idea) and wraps his legs around her. Feeling abnormally affectionate, he presses a kiss to the top of her head. It seems to do the trick because she makes a noise that sounds suspiciously like a grunt before turning her head into his chest.

Her breathing evens out and she completely—_finally_ —relaxes against him. Her hair tickles his bare arm. Without her silent, almost stubborn, refusal to distract him, Sasuke's mind wanders to that one woman.

* * *

_Shisui had decided that it was enough for Sasuke and Naruto, that they had suffered from the curse of virginity for too long. Against their will—and Sasuke was still certain that his brother had something to do with that—they had been dragged to a brothel. It would have been better if, at least, __it__ had been of the type that __masqueraded__ as a tea house. At least those __cesspools__ had the barest air of respect. The place that Shisui had chosen…it had been a long time before even Naruto had been able to feel clean again._

_It was rumored that Jiraiya had never been more proud of his son._

_The woman there had worn gowns of an eastern design that were made from cheap imitation silk. There were no exposed breasts and scanty hints of bony legs—for this, he had been grateful._

_The sweet smelling smoke that thickened the air of the brothel had made him sick and it took an effort to keep himself from passing out. It was only pride (and the knowledge that Itachi would be the first __to__ know about it) that kept from giving into the __embarrassing__ urge to run from the establishment screaming. He hadn't quite been able to stop himself from yanking his arm away from the first whore that approached him. _

_Naruto, he noticed, was surveying the place with a clinical, almost disapproving eye. It took a moment to remember what type of man his friend's father was. _

_Once he got used to the __sickening__ sweetness of the air he inhaled__,__ Sasuke was able to look around the whore house with a look that was less akin to panic. It was only then that he took note of the woman who was dragging Shisui into a darkened corner that was obscured by sheer drapes. It had taken him several minutes to be able to place her._

_It was really no wonder. _

_The last time he had seen Azula__,__ her chestnut hair had been bound high in gleaming braids that were pulled into an elaborate coif. She had been wearing the finest silks of crimson and gold, her head held high even as her husband shouted and berated her. Her mouth had curled into a rather distasteful way as her husband—an Uchiha twice removed who, although wealthy, was of very little importance—said something particularly cruel. He hadn't been close enough to hear the words that had said, but they were enough to goad Azula into backhanding her husband viciously. She hadn't __bothered__ to scream at him or continue hitting him. Instead she had sniffed and looked down at her husband, as if he was something distasteful that was clinging to her slipper. With all of the pride and dignity that she—the daughter of an abusive father from some obscure providence—kept wrapped around her, Azula had turned and left the hall._

_That had been the last he had seen of her._

_Only a short time later news of scandalous affair between her and an unknown man surfaced._

_Sasuke could only watch, stunned as Azula smiled at Shisui in a way that was so very unlike her before they disappeared behind the sheer drapes._

_

* * *

_

Sasuke curls a length of Sakura's hair around his finger as he remember how he had discovered Azula a week later when he had returned to try and bring her somewhere safe. It was purely by accident that he had stumbled across her mangled and bruised corpse.

Azula had never been particularly kind but he had always had a sort of respect for her. Sasuke shudders to think of Sakura as that mangled corpse and when he finally sleeps he sees Ume, only she has Sakura's curls and her smile. She wraps her limbs around Pansuke.

Suddenly she is bruised and her skin is decaying, her body lifeless.

When he wakes up it is too sudden and he is hardly able to stumble into their bathing room in time.

* * *

**Sorry for the lateness of this update. Work and nanowrimo is devouring my soul. For those who wanted information about the book Sakura was reading last chapter please go to my bio.**


	25. Deprivation

**Bound  
****Deprivation **

**

* * *

**"Yes, that's it." He whispers softly into her ear as he guides her through the first of the katas. It is the most basic of the moves of self defense, something that a well trained warrior learns from the time they are first able to walk. Because she is his wife, because she is _his_, he can not help but be aware of the way her feeble muscles move through the soft material of the tunic and breeches that he has decided that she will wear for these sessions. He swallows thickly when her bound breasts brush against his arm and wonders if, perhaps, it wouldn't be better to have Tsunade teach her after all…

There is a twinge in his gut as a forbidden thought enters his mind and it occurs to him how very much like her twin she is. It is strange, although he very much doubts that he will be able to banish the image of her headless corpse, he finds it much harder to remember that woman's name. He grits his teeth as he corrects her stance, his fingers splayed on the curve of her hip.

Yes, it would be much less painful.

Today, he decides, he will only guide her through the basic stances because he does not think that there is much more he can do today.

Sakura has a natural grace, he notes as he tries not to let his fingers linger on her warmth. He supposes that if she had grown as her twin did, then maybe she would have been as resilient, but she is his Sakura. Even as she moves through the stances, he can sense the weakness in her movement. He can sense it in the way that she hesitates, even as she flows into the next stance. Even as he grips her arms to help her perform the next kata, Sasuke can not help but wonder if perhaps he is being a bit rash. He is hardly even sure of how he should teach her.

As he guides her hands into the proper placement he whispers instruction into her ear, and curses himself when she shudders.

Just a little longer, he tells himself. He just needs to hold out for a little bit longer.

This time, she flows into the next stance without his guidance, and there is hardly any hesitation this time. Sasuke finds himself wondering if she keeps up this training what she will be like in a few months.

Although…if he does decide to have Tsunade teach her how to defend herself then there will be less time that she will have with him.

Sasuke really doesn't like the thought of that. It is hard enough with the summit coming up. He doesn't quite know how his father managed it—and he rather suspects that Itachi had a hand to play in it—but somehow a simple alliance meeting with the Hyuugas to fortify their defenses against their Harunos has expanded into a grand meeting with the heads of all of the major clans in the region and some of the most honored swords masters. There is less time than he would like to spend with his wife.

He is thankful, at least, that Pansuke has suddenly been made rather busy with arranging the security of the dignitaries that will be staying at the numerous Uchiha Estates for the summit. Sasuke would just rather not think on what exactly it is that he owes Itachi for that particular favor.

"Sasuke?"

Her voice, hesitant and strangely sounding a bit embarrassed jar him from his thoughts. Then he realizes that instead of guiding her through the next stance as he has been for the past hour, his hands have been carefully running up and down her hips. Her breathing is slightly heavy, fast, but he doesn't feel embarrassed. After all, this is all her fault. She can be too impossibly distracting, and the breeches she wears are old and very thin.

He rests his head on her shoulder, his mouth curling into a smirk when she shudders as his breath caresses the shell of her ear.

"Sasuke?" This time her voice is shaky, and her hands fall to her sides, clenching into tight fists.

"We should go back," he whispers, nipping on her ear and relishing at her sudden intake of breath. "Are you hungry?"

"I need to wash up first." He relishes in the hesitation of her voice and is feeling absolutely wicked.

"Yes," he agrees, "we should wash up." He covers her protest with a kiss before pulling her close. He has never shown her just why the Harunos still have such difficulty when any of his clan are fighting on the front lines. He wraps his arms tightly around her as he forms the hand signs for the transportation jutsu.

XXX

Even he must admit that the steaming water feels like bliss he sinks into the deep pool. He can see the shadows of exhaustion creeping at the corners of her eyes, and for a moment he feels a twinge of guilt. He had, after all, spent the better part of the day showing her the most basic forms of self defense. Physical activity, most likely, is not something that she is used to, and when he hadn't been distracted he had been relentless in guiding her through the steps.

He does give her credit for hiding her exhaustion from him until now.

Sasuke decides that he rather likes the way she leans against him so heavily, a soft sigh escaping her mouth as he lowers her carefully into their expansive bathing pool. Wait above it seems like they were in a shower, now a bath, clarify?

"Are you tired?" He idly plays with the damp ends of her hair as he whispers the words against the lobe of her ear. Her pale skin suddenly looks flushed and he rather deviously wonders how red he can make her.

"A bit. It's been a while."

Sasuke doesn't particularly think that it has been that long. After all, it has only been less than a fortnight since that afternoon in the hidden garden. He knows that that is not what she is thinking of, at least not immediately. He pulls her closer, fascinated at the way her cheeks pinken. He does not think that it is entirely because of the heat.

"Wash." She mumbles, and Sakura presses her hand against his chest. Her movements are more lethargic and feeble then usual and that in of itself is enough to give him cause to scowl.

"Later." He nips at the soft skin of her lobe, his hand abandoning the idle play of her hair to splay along the curve of her hip. A sound that is less like a moan and more like another exhausted sigh escapes her as she turns her head and rests her cheek against his bare chest.

"Wash." Her body is leaning more heavily against him and this time he can hardly hear her. Sasuke has a feeling that he knows were this is going and he scowls. The feel of her wet, smooth skin is so delicious that he really doesn't want to wait for it.

Reaching up to cup her cheek he kisses her in an almost desperate attempt to coax _something_ out of her. A part of him wilts when, instead of giving him some of her passions, her eyes flutter shut and she only weekly returns the kiss.

Sakura tries to repeat that faint, one word command of wash, but it comes out as an unintelligible mumble. Completely oblivious to his frustration she drifts off and he has to brutally push aside any of his plans for the evening, and give into her request to wash before tucking her into bed for the night.

It is a long time before he is able to join his wife in bed.

* * *

**That I was able to post today goes completely to my beta who is just pure awesomeness. That and arch-nsha and her awesome fanart to help me get back to writing. **

**This chapter was actually most written a month or so ago. I just had some trouble writing the ending. I will attempt to go back to my previous writing schedule so that I can get to the next story arc and then wrap this piece up.**


	26. Little Tease

**Bound**

**Little Tease**

**

* * *

**

A long time ago, waking up to a warmth that had nothing to do with her own blankets would have been such a foreign feeling. A smile pulls at her mouth as it occurs to her in just how short a time the comforting feel of her husband's warmth has become so familiar. Even though she still doesn't wander far beyond the confines of their apartment of rooms the past four months, it is becoming harder for her to remember what life had been for her in those sun-kissed deserts. Some nights when she wakes up, with her legs tangled with Sasuke's, his arm wrapped firmly around her waist, her memories of her birth land seem nothing more than a shadowy dream. On those nights sometimes she can convince herself that this is all she has ever known.

It is always in the mornings that follow these nights that she wonders how this could have become so familiar in so short a time. It is always on these mornings that she has the sudden urge to be a bit bolder than she usually is. It is still so difficult for her to be the one to make the first move. After all, she can't be terribly seductive with her face nearly as pink as her hair.

On this particular morning her fingers touch the bare skin of his chest. That in itself isn't terribly unusual, but the curious way that she feels as she brushes her hands lightly over his chest, the low moan that he makes as he tightens his arm around her waist makes her feel warm and a bit reckless. He shifts and even though she is quite certain that her cheeks are a brilliant scarlet and her skin almost feels too hot, she presses an open mouth kiss to his chest, just over his heart.

Sakura isn't quite certain how, exactly, it is that she suddenly ends up on her back.

Her heart thuds in her chest as she stares up at Sasuke, a little breathless and stunned. Something about the bloody redness of his eyes, and the black tomoe that spin in the crimson depths, frightens her. It is something that she will never admit, of course, but her heart still pounds just a little bit harder than normal because of it. She parts her mouth as he continues to watch her and the heat of her skin seems nearly unbearable when his attention is suddenly drawn there. Suddenly she is very dizzy and it is more than a little bit difficult to breathe. When he smirks there is something so thoroughly wicked and sinful about it that her stomach flips and churns.

"That wasn't very kind."

Even after four months of a very physical marriage Sakura still can't help but feel mortified that he had actually been awake when she had done _that_. Her skin feels too hot, too tight, but when she tries to look away his hand threads through her hair and the rough callous of his thumb brushes against her cheek.

"Sasuke—"

It is not entirely unexpected, the way that he suddenly cuts her protest off with another one of his melting kisses, and it isn't exactly fair the way he can ruin her train of thought so easily. His bare arms are wrapping around her and she can just feel _him_ and forget about how her skin seems to be too many sizes too small for her body and her stomach keeps flip-flopping.

Sakura hates herself for how weakly she returns his kisses, after all she should be used to this by now. Is it strange that Sasuke doesn't seem to care how she can hardly curl her fingers around his arms. She wishes that the situation were reversed. Even though that brief feeling of boldness, the desire to explore is gone, she has long since discovered that she rather likes being draped against him. His lean muscles give her the illusion of strength and are a comfort—

Her stomach twists again and when Sakura gasps this time it isn't because of how his skin feels against her. The hot tightness of her skin is too much to ignore, and she pushes at Sasuke, suddenly desperate to get away from him. For a moment it seems as if he is fighting her, his grip seems too strong, but when she sees understanding suddenly dawn in his dark eyes and his grip loosens as he carefully rolls off her Sakura understands that it is probably the panic that is talking.

"Are you feeling—"

She doesn't give him time to finish before she is dashing towards the privy. Her stomach is churning in the most horrible way and for a moment she doesn't think she'll make it as she tastes a horrible, burning acid in the back of her throat. Then her hands curl around the porcelain edges of the privy and she empties the contents of her stomach.

XXX

He blinks once, twice, and is momentarily stunned by how quickly she leaves the room. Sasuke knows that he probably should be worried about how she left the door ajar and go after her. Instead he presses his forehead to the pillow and stifles the urge to do something embarrassing and unmanly…like scream.

Briefly he wonders if this is the price that he is going to pay for disregarding his duties for the upcoming summit to teach his wife how to fight. Although Sakura is making some progress, he can admit to himself that she might be making more if he wasn't so distracted. Tomorrow, he decides, tomorrow he will speak to Tsunade and see if she will be willing to teach Sakura the basics.

It is only when he hears the sounds of retching that he worries, even as something that feels suspiciously like hope unfurls in his chest.

* * *

**Unsigned Review Responses**

**Tenshii**—I'm glad you enjoy the plot. As far as that other thing…well, you shall just have to wait and see. ^.~

**kattylin** - Yes, logging in can be troublesome. ^^ I'm sure that there are others that are more worthy but thanks for the review and the compliment!


	27. LoveLove Fest

**Bound**

**

* * *

**

**Prelude Secundo**  
**(The Ita/Naru/Hina Love Love Fest)**

* * *

Itachi isn't entirely surprised when he enters the dining room to find it empty. After all there is all the ruckus that is coming from his brother's apartment of rooms. Even though they can barely be called newlyweds, Sasuke didn't hesitate to run to his mother at the slightest thing. Of course, the way she had followed Sasuke back to his rooms, her mouth pressed into a thin line of worry certainly didn't bode well, but that really isn't a concern of his at the moment. If it had been urgent then he would have scented blood.

Fugaku is off somewhere, he really wasn't sure where and Itachi really doesn't care. As he piles the food that the servants have laid out for the family onto a plate, he is more than a little disgruntled to find that he will be spending this meal alone.

Then he hears the voice. To some it is dreadfully annoying but for Itachi there is no sweeter sound in the world.

He eases into his seat, the corner of his mouth quirking into a slight smirk as he waits for Naruto to enter.

Simply because it is a most unbecoming mannerism is the only reason that Itachi does not give into the urge to tap his foot as Naruto pauses in the doorway to question a servant that is rushing by. Although anything that the servant says can not hold any interest for him, Itachi spears an asparagus on his fork as he listens to the abrasive sweetness of Naruto's voice. It is only when Sakura's name comes up that he starts to pay attention to the words that are being said.

"Are they sure?"

The servant hesitates and then nods.

"Mikoto-sama is quite certain, but they are waiting for Tsunade-sama's arrival before anything can be confirmed."

"How's Te-Sasuke?" There is a careful cadence to Naruto's tone, as if he is hoping for something.

"He isn't leaving Sakura-sama's side. When I was last there he was quite attentive."

"Teme's always attentive. Sometime he's as bad as my old man. Let me know after the old bat sees Sakura-chan, ok?"

The servant looks startled at the insulting reference to Naruto's own mother, but bows in compliance nonetheless. Itachi isn't quite able to stop himself from smiling before he speaks.

"That's not a very polite way to speak about your mother, Naruto-san."

He shrugs as he moves towards the food. "As long as she's not around to threaten me within an inch of my life it's fine."

"Your mother is quite strong willed in a way that is very rare for women."

Naruto grins at him. "I swear my old man is a masochist. Although it makes me wonder about Sakura-chan. I think if Teme would just stop coddling her then she would give even my mother a run for her money."

Itachi isn't too sure about that, isn't entirely too sure that there is more to his sister-in-law than pretty looks and a soft voice, but he will not contradict Naruto. After all it is entirely possible that there is some truth to it. His interactions with her have, after all, been too few and there was truth to Naruto's words. Sasuke is being almost suffocatingly protective.

It is a bit distasteful, really, how his little brother has been acting.

Sasuke should be teaching his wife all of those valuable things that her own family had neglected, not keeping her all but chained to the bed. His little brother should have been showing his wife how to protect her children from unseen enemies.

"Is Sakura well?"

Only years of ruthless self control prevents Itachi from reacting in the slightest when Pansuke suddenly steps into the dining hall. He wonders if his cousin realizes just how much he is hated and loathed among the general family. He knows that he will never quite forget the daughter from one of the Hyuuga branch families that had married into the Uchiha clan seven years ago. She had been delicate yet caustic. Several women from all over had married into the clan around that time and she had been the only he had been able to stand. Pansuke's seduction and the aftermath had shredded her pride and had made her into a pathetic shell of the woman she had once been. It hadn't been entirely surprising when news had reached of how she had hung herself in the gardens one day. He had never forgotten it.

Too many women of the family have been targeted by him. While Itachi feels no pity for the other women who are foolish enough to fall for those false charms, something in him burns at the thought of the base bastard indulging himself with his brother's wife.

It is for this reason alone that he regards Pansuke with no kindness.

"That's none of your business." It is the suddenness of a violent growl and how it sounds more animalistic than human that startles Itachi and he is surprised to see Naruto's lips (how soft they looked) curled into a snarl.

If there is one thing that Itachi must concede to Pansuke then it is the lack of expression on the man's face. There is no hint of a reaction or a care to the sudden violent demeanor from someone who is so very naïve and foolish. If anything, the man seems amused, and that is what has Itachi narrowing his eyes as he stonily regards his cousin.

Pansuke's eyes flicker briefly over to Itachi's and he quite suddenly pales although his voice remains as strong as ever. A remarkable feat. Finally, he takes a step back, his smirk back in place.

"I wonder if there is any truth to the rumor that she is pregnant. I do hope that she is careful so that nothing more happens."

XXX

_Such a healthy appetite_, Itachi thinks fondly as he watches Naruto pile food onto his plate. He had been worried, particularly when Naruto had cracked a china plate with his grip alone, that Pansuke's sudden presence might have fouled the evening. Fortunately, Naruto is so very simple that all it takes is the briefest mention of ramen before his blue eyes are trained back on the food. Idly Itachi wonders, particularly as he watches Naruto brush a fair spike of hair away from his brow, if maybe he should join his brother and Naruto in the hot springs sometime. Just to see…

Naruto takes a swig of the sweet wine that was laid out with the meal, and gags at the sudden taste. Itachi takes a bite of his own meal to hide his smile as Naruto mutters some unkind things about the vintage. For some reason, Itachi finds himself unable to look away from that mouth that has now been stained a delicious raspberry by the liquid. Not a very generous mouth, he concludes, as he takes a sip of his own goblet of wine. His tongue darts out to taste the sweet, slight fruit of this particular vintage and he shudders as if gripped by a sudden pleasure or thought.

"Naruto-kun?"

The soft, feminine voice jerks Itachi out of the soft haze that is a result of Naruto's innocent seduction, and he clenches his fingers around the stem of his goblet when Naruto's eyes light up as the Hyuuga heiress steps into the room.

_Conniving tramp._

Naruto is much too innocent to see the blatant flirtation as she peers up at him through her lashes when he rises from the table. He does not see the wantonness in the way that she does not refuse his hand when the foolish boy leads her to the table and prepares a plate of food for her. He doesn't see the glimmer of deception in her pale eyes when they widen at the amount of food that he is heaping upon her plate.

It should come as no surprise, Itachi finally decides. After all, he has long since acknowledged that the boy needs to be saved from his own naïveté.

He does not like all of the attention that Naruto seems to be heaping upon Hinata, or how they both seem to completely ignore his presence. He has to set down his wine when she smiles at Naruto flirtatiously. Itachi tries to turn his attention back to his meal but it is more difficult than he expects, to try to ignore how shameless that woman is. The foods seems to get stuck in his throat at how Naruto can simply not _see_ that the way her hand shakes slightly as she carefully drinks her wine, or the way that her hand brushes against his as they both reach for the butter, is nothing but a ploy.

Then Naruto, so guileless and bright, leans in just a little closer to her, and Itachi cannot bring himself to even pretend to finish his meal. It is only when he places his fork down that his gaze lands upon the steak knife resting so very innocently on the edge of his plate. The plan forms in his mind with such effortlessness. Even Sasuke would be able to bury the knife into that woman's throat with little problem. After all with the summit coming up she has been told that she will be completely safe. After all, the Uchihas need the alliance with the Hyuugas.

But there are other alliance that can be found, and other ways to beat the Harunos.

Besides will there really be any proof? After all he needs to protect Naruto from his own innocence.

Without a thought or a care as to the consequences, Itachi picks up the knife and prepares to throw it.

"Naruto-kun!"

He is so determined, so focused, that he doesn't quite catch the moment when Naruto knocks over Hinata's wine glass, and she pushes back from the table to avoid staining her dress. Any other moment he would smile indulgently at the boy's clumsiness. Now Itachi can only suppress the urge to sigh when the steak knife is embedded into the wall instead of that woman's throat. His mother will not be pleased if she sees it. The thought is barely finished when Naruto's eyes follow the knife now embedded into the wood panel. His heart thuds in his chest at the sudden flaw in his plan occurs to him. What if Naruto _knows_? What if he _hates_ him for this?

The fair-haired fool carefully removes the knife and studies it for a moment. The pounding of Itachi's heart is near deafening and it is a wonder that the others haven't heard it. Then Naruto hands the knife to him, handle first, and the look in his dear, blue eyes is one of incomprehension and Itachi is gripped by a sudden urge to weep at his incomprehension as he hands back the knife.

"Itachi, I think you dropped this."

He really is such a dear fool.

* * *

**Seriously, these chapters are more fun to write then they have any right to be. Next chapter we go back to Sasu-chan. **

**I am going to attempt to write out another chapter before I go to Anime Boston, so hopefully I will do a double update this week. At the very least I will try to have something written that my beta can post on my behalf.**

**So Nobou Uematsu. YaY!  
**


	28. Crushed Blossoms

**Just to be clear, the Love Love Fest will **_**not**_** be made into it's own series. But it will continue to appear throughou. **

**I really need to get these two out of the bedroom…maybe after we castrate Pansuke…**

**Well, this is shorter then usual. Next chapter is the plotting.**

**

* * *

**

**Bound  
Crushed Blossoms**

**

* * *

**Sasuke glares at Tsunade as unimpertantly as possible as she clucks and scolds him for being so foolish. Really, he thinks, with that drab cloak she rather resembles a hen as she fusses over _his_ wife. Experience with Naruto's mother is the only thing that stops him from grabbing Sakura and forcing the other woman out of the room.

He hates being made a fool of.

At least when it is Sakura who makes him feel foolish and like an uncouth oaf it is easy enough to apologize without having to ever utter the words and he has never heard her complain about it.

Silently brooding, Sasuke waits impatiently as Tsunade _finally_ leans back and places a wet cloth on Sakura's forehead. "You are an idiot."

He can only remind himself that it is a very small mercy his mother is no longer in the room. Her face had nearly been as red as his own when Tsunade had coolly informed them that it wasn't so urgent. The glare his mother had given him had been enough to make him flinch.

He had been so certain that she was pregnant.

It was rather fortunate that Sakura had only blinked at him, confused as he had carefully led her back to the bed.

"The lot of you." Tsunade continues, raising her voice just a little bit higher, and his cheeks heat when he realizes that she has no intent of letting him retain some semblance of dignity. "If it wasn't for your mother then I would be certain that there isn't a semblance of common sense in any member of your clan. I only hope that the foolishness doesn't infect Sakura."

The healer leaves the room without so much as a goodbye, her drab robes rustling as she leaves the room. Sasuke moves over to Sakura's side. He pulls the covers back but for the moment he doesn't join her. He just watches as she sleeps quietly, her skin is flushed faintly with the fever.

It is probably a blessing that she had been too sick to really understand what he was thinking when he had dragged her from the bathroom.

Finally pulling the covers over their forms, he studies her for a moment, brushing aside a lock of pink hair that has been made damp by the wet cloth on her forehead. Still in the deep sleep of sickness, Sakura turns her head towards him and moves closer so that her cheek is pressing against his chest. Sasuke isn't quite sure if he should be smiling, but he likes the way she sighs when he wraps an arm around her waist to pull her even closer.

Maybe, he thinks, when she is better he will speak to Jiraiya on the best way to produce children.

* * *

***hides in bomb shelter***


	29. Pan is for Bread

**Bound**

'**Pan' is for Bread  
The Uchiha Family Whore**

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FYI – Pansuke is a complete and utter ass. Castrate the bastard!!**

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**Pansuke studies the wall that serves as a barrier for the part of the estate that belongs solely to the direct family of the clan leader and frowns. It is not a pleasant feeling, to know that his plans will not go so smoothly this time. He still has a rather prissy urge to claw at Itachi's too perfect face. Being the clan heir certainly does not give Itachi the right to tell him where he can and can not go.

Only with an invitation, Itachi told him, would he be allowed access.

Pansuke's handsome face marrs as he scowls. Normally, an invitation would be easy enough to procure from his intended target, but Sasuke is much too protective, much too suspicious, of him to allow his wife to wander the grounds unattended.

Vaguelly, he recalls the warning that his cousin had also given him to stay away from Naruto which he just doesn't understand. After all, he is only the son of healer. How can any one have any interest in _him_?

A passing guard, an uncle whom Pansuke has never cared for, stops and looks at him, eyes narrowed. Pansuke forces his expression into one of casual disinterest as he walks away.

Even the most improbable entrances are being guarded. How very annoying. He does not like not being able to slip into the part of the gardens where he most often _finds_ Sakura and Sasuke.

He supposes that he shouldn't be too surprised. After all, considering the last time security was lax Sakura had been kidnapped—by her own birth family no less—and been rather thoroughly beaten. That wasn't a mistake that Uncle Fugaku was quick to forget.

Idly, Pansuke wonders if the clan would consider him a traitor if they knew that he had detected the drug in the food before it had been served. Experience had taught him that the Haruno spies weren't the most subtle of persons, so he had felt inclined to investigate a serving boy that was behaving rather strangely. Once he had seen that the drug wasn't a poison he had decided to let the boy continue on with his orders.

The boy had been foolish enough to stick around and it had been pleasant enough to gut the brat when his uncle had realized what had happened.

In the end everything had worked out. Sakura had miscarried as a result of the abuse that she had suffered at her own family, and that had worked to his benefit. He had not been looking forward to have to seduce a fat woman.

It is why he is so very grateful that the rumor is just that—a rumor, an error in judgment. Not only is the thought of seducing a fat woman one that is so highly…displeasing, he knows that it would be even more difficult to gain access to her once a seed finally does take.

As displeasing as it is, it will take time, and as long as she remains as she is, Pansuke is quite certain that this is a seduction that he will thoroughly enjoy. It will take planning, but, at the very least, Sasuke's sudden desire to teach her to fight will allow him access to his target.

Pansuke takes the path that will lead him to one of the buildings that will lead him to one of his current toys. This one, her husband is more intelligent then most and as…responsive as she is he will have no choice but to let things take their natural path.

He smirks and he knows that he will take a particular pleasure in cuckolding Sasuke.

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**Cliched as it is, this was actually refreshing to write—sort of—as you can tell by the quick update. I've always liked writing villains I think. Villainesses are more fun, but meh. You can look forward to Sakura being trained by Tsunade next chapter, I think.**

**Another FYI – I will post the next Love Love Fest chapter before Pansuke starts to puts his plans into action. The end of this arc will then be followed by another Love Love Fest. ^^**


	30. Finally

**A little something new, structure wise.**

**This chapter is dedicated to everyone who reviewed last chapter. If it weren't for you I wouldn't have written this so quickly.**

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Bound**

**Finally, Out of Bed**

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I just wanted to let people know that I am not going to make Sakura suffer horribly in this Pansuke arc. Just a little bit of emotional angst. If you want to blame anyone, blame the reviewer who requested it.**

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Sakura blinks, her mind still fuzzy from the vestiges of sleep, and it takes her a moment to realize what it is that has woken her or why something doesn't feel right. It is only when her hand gropes for Sasuke that she realizes just what is missing. The warmth that surrounds her only comes from the blankets, not his wonderful body heat. She blinks again, staring dumbly at the spot where he husband should be.

"Sasuke?"

He is never _not_ there when she wakes up.

Worry forces her to rise from the bed and dress. It does not help that she can not remember much of the past few days. The fever had been swift and without warning. All she knows is that he had stayed by her side until some point last night. She stops only as she rests her hand on the door knob. A knot of…something, trepidation maybe, forms in her stomach and it occurs to her that she had never gone far from their rooms, at least not without him by her side. The oddness of that leaves her perplexed and for a moment all she can do is stare at the closed door.

She feels a bit numb as she pushes open the door, and wonders just what is wrong with her as she makes her way down the hall. When she comes across a sleeping Naruto, she stops to stare at him. Her husband's best friend is curled against the wall, clutching a package of dry noodles as he snores. The sight makes her smile, and she has a feeling that this is a rather natural occurrence here. An occurrence that she never would have been aware of if she hadn't dared to venture beyond the suite of rooms that she shares with Sasuke. Her smile fades a bit at that thought, but, nevertheless, she lifts her skirts and carefully steps over Naruto's noisily slumbering form.

XXX

Itachi scowls as he makes his way down the hall. Oh, but that Hyuuga heir is so very clever. If the woman was anyone but a scheming tramp then he would have smiled at how she was practicing in front of a mirror, appearing shy and uncertain as she repeated her lines.

She is very good at it, as reluctant as he is, he must admit that. Somehow she is able to force herself to blush just the right way so that if anyone else were to stumble across her they would find it endearing how her words seem to trip over each other as she asks her reflection to join Sasuke and Sakura on an outing. Even Itachi would have found himself touched if he didn't _know_ that she was trying to sink her claws into one so innocent and fair.

He will protect Naruto from her.

He stops and watches as Sakura carefully steps over the threshold that separates his brother's wing from the rest of the estate. The expression in her eyes is rather dazed, as if she is trying to ponder something that she can't possibly understand and he wonders at it.

It is only when she stops that he registers the loud and rather grating sound that fills the corridor. He walks silently behind her, unnoticed, and smiles when he sees Naruto curled up against the wall. Sakura's neck twists so that she can better look at the slumbering fool, and Itachi is rather surprised by the smile her mouth is curved into. It is the type of smile an indulgent sibling will give to a younger one, the type of smile that he had rarely given Sasuke as an infant.

His eyes sharpen as he notes the way his sister-in-law moves as she carefully steps over Naruto. There is only the faintest rustle of material and not once does her dress brush against the slumbering male. It occurs to him, as he watches her disappear behind the corner, that she could be very graceful if she chose to.

Even as his gaze slips from where Sakura had disappeared to the oblivious Naruto he can't help but wonder what her relation is to the Haruno his brother beheaded. Sasuke's reaction bordered on appalling, but it could be excused if the two women had been closely related. Maybe siblings?

Itachi banishes the thought as he steps forward. After all, it is not terribly important. Not even their father knows of the incident, and their mother would never tell. All he knew was that the woman had been of surprising grace and ability. If there is a relation as close as that as siblings it is not be to hard to imagine that Sakura might have some talent in that area. Then his eyes land on the almost soft features of Naruto's face and he forgets all about the mystery of the Haruno Clan.

It is past time for the boy to wake, he decides and nudges Naruto with his foot, and his faint smile is an echo of Sakura's, indulgent and loving.

Naruto blinks and looking around blearily, still clutching the package of noodles to his chest.

Oh, how very precious.

XXX

Trepidation makes her stomach churn and she nearly wrings her hands from the anxiety as she makes her way through the maze of corridors. It is only when she finally finds the doors that lead to the gardens that Sakura finally allows herself to breath in relief. The sun is warm and helps to calm her nerves a bit. The wind carries the sweet scent of the blossoming flowers, and a smile pulls at her mouth when she sees the black shock of hair that can only be her husband. She gathers up her skirts once more and hurries down the gravel path. It is when she hears a soft, almost hesitant voice that something in her freezes. When she passes a tree Sakura suddenly finds it difficult to breathe when she notices a woman standing next to her husband. Her black hair is braided and pinned to the top of her head and she looks absolutely stunning in her gold and cream gown.

"They look so very close, don't they?"

The suddenness of the voice behind is more than enough to startle her and she can't quite stop herself from gasping when she backs up against a solid chest. Hands curl around her upper arms, and it is only when she looks up and recognizes the slight curl of Pansuke's hair that she is able to ease the pounding in her heart. The expression in his eyes is concerned and even though she can hear Sasuke's warning for her to stay away from this man she just can't understand why. After all he is Sasuke's cousin and has shown her no ill will despite the fact that she was once a Haruno. Why would he want to harm her?

Sakura turns her attention back to her husband and the lovely woman standing near him and has a hard time swallowing the lump in her throat. When she finally does manage to speak her voice comes out in a whisper.

"Who is she?"

"The heiress of the Hyuuga clan." He fingers go lax against her arms and he moves away from her. "Being a woman, of course, she is not nearly as gifted as her cousin." He does not notice the way Sakura's shoulders suddenly go stiff and her expression goes stony. All he feels is satisfaction that he was able to get a nugget of information from his current toy on how to sneak into the gardens that belong to Sasuke. If he can remain hidden to all but Sakura then maybe his job won't be so difficult after all. "I feel sorry for Neji Hyuuga . He has a gift and talent that almost rivals my uncle's heir, but he is doomed to be nothing more than the right hand to a woman who will never have his talents. I suppose Hinata is nice enough." He continues after a moment's pause as he allows Sakura to absorb that information and comprehend what it could possibly mean. "She certainly will never need to worry about finding a husband. There was talk, for a bit, of Sasuke asking for her hand. The union would have been lasting, certainly more so than the ones with the Haruno's—ah, my apologies—and she comes from fertile stock."

"Fertile?" Sakura echoes. Her hands curl into fists and she places them over her stomach. It is suddenly rather difficult to breathe. Sasuke has never done anything to indicate that he was displeased that none of his seed seemed to catch. He has never been anything but caring and concerned.

But this is the first morning when she has woken to find him gone from her side. To see him in the company of a woman that she knows nothing about. The taste it leaves in her mouth is terrifying and she shivers at Pansuke's next words.

"They were so very close when they were children."

Sakura doesn't notice when he leaves, she doesn't notice much of anything, all she knows is that it _hurts._

XXX

Sasuke has to fight to hide the urge to grin as Hinata blushes, her eyes downcast as finally manages to stop stuttering her request.

"Could you—Naruto—I want to ask him—" Her cheeks turn scarlet as she looks up at him, her expression one of horrible embarrassment. It is only through knowing her for several years that he is able to make any semblance of sense out of her next words. "?"

Sometimes he wonders what Hinata and Naruto will be like when they eventually marry. Would Hinata last the wedding night without passing out?

Because she is an old friend of his, Sasuke allows himself to take the time to tease her and takes his time to respond.

"You should know that I can't force that idiot to do anything." His mouth curls so slightly at Hinata's crestfallen look. She moves away, wringing her hands and he can only imagine what she must be thinking now. He wants to help her, even if he can't understand why she could possibly be interested in someone as oblivious as Naruto. An idea comes to him suddenly. It is something that he has wanted to do anyway and there is the chance that it will help Hinata regardless.

"There is something," He finally says, "I have been wanting to take Sakura away from the Estates for some time. Pansuke has been showing an interest in her for sometime. She doesn't wander far from the rooms…"

"But that keeps her away from your cousin, doesn't it?" Hinata's mouth is pressed in a thin line. She had admired Azula and everything that the woman had stood for. Discovering that Pansuke had been the cause for Azula's eventual death had her regarding Pansuke with nothing but contempt.

Sasuke scowls. Yes, it did keep Sakura away from Pansuke, but Tsunade was insisting that it wasn't good for Sakura's health. He didn't like the pointed comment the healer had made the other day about how it did nothing to help Sakura gain the strength that he wanted her to have, but he had acknowledged the truth of it.

There is a lodge that the clan had exclusive use for that was two hours away from the main city. It is too large for just the two of them, but if he brought along female company then it might be just the escape that Tsunade had been hinting at.

And maybe, just maybe, the escape will give Hinata the courage that she needs.

"I want to take Sakura to the Lodge." Sasuke said finally. "And I want you and Naruto to accompany us."

He misses the way that her mouth curves into a bright smile, distracted by the small crystal that is giving off tiny vibration in his pocket. It had been a welcome gift from Itachi, who was also concerned by Pansuke's sudden interest. His brother had promised to work on a form of jewelry for him and Sakura that would allow Sasuke to know if there was anyone near Sakura who shouldn't be. Itachi was working on it with Jiraiya, Tsunade, and Kakashi, but it would take some time before it would be completed.

Which is why his brother had given him a small crystal that was attuned to Pansuke's chakra.

A chakra that is so very close.

It is only when he turns and looks down the path that he sees Sakura in an emerald gown, her vibrant hair the only thing that makes it possible to discern her from the trees. He can see someone behind her, but they are far enough away that it looks to be nothing but a shadow.

Even with this much distance between them he can see how wide her eyes are and how pale her skin is. Sasuke ignores Hinata's repeated questions and rushes down the path to his wife.

His hand is on the hilt of his sword but by the time he reaches Sakura the shadow is gone, and the crystal is no longer vibrating from Pansuke's chakra.

"Sakura?" He reaches for her, and his vision sharpens without thought—his sharingan active—when she flinches back from him.

Her green eyes are glossy with unshed tears and only now that he is close enough to touch her does Sasuke sees the faint way her hands are trembling. She clenches them over her stomach and his gut goes cold as to what that could possibly mean.

XXX

She doesn't quite hear his voice. All she can see is how stunning this lady, this Hinata Hyuuga is with her exotic, pale eyes. She can't help but think that maybe she might after all be a better match for Sasuke. If Pansuke is right then she would be a woman who has not been damaged by a twisted act of her own birth family, who would easily be able to bear him a son or a daughter.

Her breath comes out in short gasps as her thoughts give rise to the old fear that only Sasuke's constant presence and care had kept buried. Would she ever be able to bear children? What if she couldn't? What if Lord Fugaku were to decide that she can not possible be of any use to them and send her back—

"Sakura!"

She doesn't notice how thick his voice is with concern. All she notices is his touch as he suddenly cups her cheek, his thumb brushing aside the barely formed tears. She closes her eyes at his touch, and when she opens them again for a second it seems as if his own eyes are a turbulent, bloody flame. The black flecs in his pupils almost seem to spin, and in that moment she can see his emotions so very clearly. They are nearly as chaotic as her own, and hold a touch of fear, of concern.

Suddenly, she feels anchored, her thoughts righted. Something about the force of emotion that she sees there makes her feel as if she has been cleansed of some horrible taint. She gives her husband a smile that is a bit wobbly.

"I'm fine. I'm sorry for worrying you."

Sasuke doesn't respond, just studies her, and between one blink and the next the bloody fire of his eyes vanish and they are the endless inky black that she loves. Her cheeks color when he suddenly wraps his arms tightly around her and presses the soft kisses that she loves to her hair. She loves them so very much because they make her feel loved and cherished.

"If anything was wrong you would tell me, wouldn't you?"

The smile she gives him isn't forced. "Of course."

XXX

Hinata worries for Sasuke's wife, the woman from the desert that she has always wanted to meet. It is why she had sought her old friend out when his wife was bed-ridden with fever. Not then, and certainly not now, has she ever seen him show so much care for a woman. She feels as if she is intruding when Sasuke pulls the pink haired woman close, and presses a tender kiss to her forehead. Envy twinges at her heart, and it is only the memory of what her cousin's fiancé has told her that keeps it at bay.

"_You hide too much, Hina. You never even give him a chance to know. Show him that there is a little bit of steel in that spine of yours and I guarantee you will get your fairy tale ending. Even if your prince is a bit of a goof."_

Yes, that is why she had begged her father to let her come to the Uchiha Estates ahead of the summit. This will give her a chance to show Naruto that she is more than a stammering heiress, drenched in silks and jewels. This will give her a chance to show him that, while it was Neji's strategies that kept the Hyuuga's country safe from Haruno influence, she was the one who had stopped that brigade from invading one of their port cities.

Perhaps today, if Naruto joins the three of them on their excursion outside of the city, she can show Naruto that she can be strong and confident.

And if she can't maybe Sakura can help her find that courage.

XXX

A branch snaps under Itachi's grip when he sees his brother and his sister-in-law standing near that wretched tramp. He is glad that he had followed Naruto when the servant had appeared and said that Sasuke was requesting Naruto's presence. He had always known that Sasuke was as good friends with Hinata as he was with Naruto, but never did he think his brother would try to doom Naruto in such a way.

He doesn't move from his spot as Naruto offers his hand to the wretch and the two (dare he even think it?) couples follow the path that will lead them to the stables.

If he is going to protect Naruto then he is going to need help.


	31. Torrent of Memories

**Sorry for the delay and shortness. This took much longer then it should have.**

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****Bound  
Torrent of Memories**

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**Horses are not something that Sakura is dreadfully familiar with, so she is rather thankful when, instead of having the stable boys saddle up four horses, Sasuke orders them to prepare a carriage. Naruto's groan is promptly ignored. Without prompt, Sasuke helps her into the carriage and she settles next to him, wanting to give into the urge to rest her head against his shoulder—after all she is so very exhausted from the force of her earlier emotions and uncertainties, but the sudden interaction between Naruto and…Hinata is too distracting.

It would be a lie to say that she is comfortable with the other woman's presence, and Sakura feels absolutely wretched for her sudden insecurity, especially when it is so obvious—almost painfully so—that Hinata has no interest in Sasuke. Pansuke has to be wrong. Their relationship doesn't look to be any different than the close relationship that she had with her cousin Shika before he was declared a family traitor. Her mouth turns up in a sardonic manner as she contemplates this, watching Naruto grin while helping a red-faced Hinata into the carriage. It is a wonder that the girl hasn't passed out.

She and Shika had always been the odd ones in the Haruno Clan. It was never something that she liked admitting growing up, but strategy had not come easily to the men in her family. It was tradition: the men fought and the women planned. Her parents, the main family branch, had never placed much value on that tradition when it came to daughters. It had been more convenient for the heiresses to the Clan to be used as tools. Generally the heiresses were used as she had been, a union—however fragile and false—through marriage. One daughter was taught to fight, but there could only be one exception.

By the time their mother had given birth to Ume and Sakura, the second born daughter had already been reared up as a fighter. In their family, twins had never been borne by the main line before and in too many parts of the country were still considered a bad omen. The Crone, an ancient fortune teller who never stayed in one place for very long, had been summoned in an attempt to decide if it would have been necessary to kill one of them. The Crone had, of course, advised against it advising that the Stars of Ares and Artemis favored the eldest born. It was because of this that Ume had been brought up the way she had.

A favorite aunt had once told Sakura that a servant had held a dagger to her infant neck as her father had calmly asked the Crone if she, the youngest, would be of any was said that the Crone had eyed her father, then only a Prince of the Harunos, before shrewdly and calmly replying that she would one day have a use.

"_It is up to you, My Lord." The Crone's eyes land on Sakura's wailing, chubby form and something in her gimlet eyes soften. "This one's usefulness to your clan will be weighed down by your decision.__" _

Sometimes Sakura wonders if her father didn't regret not strangling her in the cradle. It is the faint pressure at her wrist that pulls her from the troublesome memories that really aren't memories, just second hand stories. She feels a pang of jealousy, for when she glances up, her husband's mouth is quirked up into the faintest of smiles as he pretends not to watch Hinata and Naruto.

It irritates her, and for a brief, irrational moment she has the urge to bang her hand against the glass window of the carriage. Sure it will scatter the glass and most likely kill her but at least that way she won't have to deal with these horrible feelings. It takes an effort, and something in her twists at the memory, but she forces herself to remember.

Sakura forces herself to think past the words that she now recognizes as poison. Something in her doesn't quite want to acknowledge it because he is the only Uchiha that she has really met who didn't…

She ignores how Naruto blinks in surprise at the way that she suddenly scowls.

Who is she trying to fool? This fear that she still has about Sasuke's family is no one's fault but her own. After all today is the first time that she has really ventured outside of their suite of rooms by herself. Her experiences with Mikoto left her feeling slightly flawed, an unwanted addition.

But it is impossible for her to forget how good the faintly rough feel of the calluses on Sasuke's fingers as he had taken careful hold of her face and brushed her cheek. The fervent concern and the way, for a moment, his dark eyes had been awash in blood makes her heart pound at the memory, and it allows her to think past the pain of the memory of when the healer had told her that she had miscarried. The way Sasuke had been so careful with her, even when she had been to terrified to tell him why she couldn't bring herself to leave her bed.

She doesn't like how, when she thinks on it, the only memories that she has of the Uchiha Estate are ones of comfort and protection. She knows that she will never be a fighter like Ume, but can she really be satisfied with just this? Can she really just be satisfied with being protected—weak and useless?

Biting the inside of her cheek Sakura smoothes her expression and takes her time to study Hinata. Pansuke, for all the way his words make her feel, is right. The heiress has a beauty that she envies. She is very sweet, Sakura decides, when something is said that makes Sasuke smirk and Hinata turn an even brighter crimson.

Maybe it is time for her to fully discard the veil of the Harunos and to forget what that once meant to her. Love was never a concept of that family and now she has a husband who, even if he doesn't love her, does seem to care and—possibly—cherish her.

So, as she places her hand over her husband's, smiling softly for the first time since encountering Pansuke, she will try to find the courage to be strong in the truest sense of the word.

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**Inspiration and motivation are a fickle thing.**

**Sorry that this took so long to post. This was actually ready a month ago, but Real Life prevents my beta from dealing with some questions I had. **

**Now on to the Bad News:**

**Regretfully, I must say that I am going onto a mini-hiatus of sorts until August. There are some stories that I've been working on that have been neglected that I want to get back to. I may occasionally post something but it isn't guaranteed. I'm also having some difficulties with Bound which is making it difficult to get these chapters out as quickly as I'd like to. I will attempt to try and post something once a month, but right now I have no promises.**

**The good news is that it means I am back to work on WANTED and I have a couple of dark one shots that will hopefully be posted come August. With any luck I will have quite a bit to post once the hiatus is over.  
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	32. Kindred

**Le gasp! Finally an update!**

**Quick recap: Old friends Hinata and Sasuke reunited (not in that way you perv), Pansuke caused some trouble, Sakura nearly passed out, and we are off to the villa.**

**Wow, reading that recap makes this story seem really bad.**

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****Bound  
Kindred**

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It starts in a rather uncomfortable manner at first as Sasuke and Naruto leave the two women to enter the villa and amuse themselves while the men attend to the horses. There is a lot of twiddling of thumbs and uncertain glances at each other until Hinata blurts out, red-faced, if Sakura thinks Naruto could ever be happy with a heiress who will always be useless in comparison to her elder cousin.

The question prods at bitter memories and a childhood wish to be more to her family than just a bargaining chip. She supposes that she has already failed at that quite miserably, but at least Sasuke is determined to try to make her something more than what she has been bred to be. She smiles at Hinata genuinely as she takes in the other woman's crimson cheeks, and any remnants of that brief jealousy—and the fear that her husband could possibly want someone who is better than her—fades completely.

"I don't think you're useless." Sakura replies softly. "You have done much more than I have." She has a vague feeling that she should curse at the shadows that echo in her words. If only she had been raised around such swords. "You defended an entire city against—" Her voice cuts off, not entirely of her own volition and she frowns. She had decided some time ago not to dwell on her blood connection to the Harunos. After all they have proved that blood only means so much. Just as Sasuke has shown her that with time and patience the touch of a stranger can become something familiar and warm, loving. Sakura looks up in time to see a faint look of unease cross Hinata's face , but both women ignore it. It suddenly occurs to her that the heiress is still looking at her expectantly, and that she still has not answered the question. She presses her lips in a thin line as she considers her words.

The uncertainty, the fear of being unworthy, is something that Sakura is so very familiar with. It is because of that familiarity that she forces herself to concentrate on the question that has been asked. Naruto's presence has always been a regular one in the suite of rooms that she shares with Sasuke. Try as she might she cannot remember a single time when Naruto would much mention Hinata in a manner that wasn't in passing, and even though she is married to Sasuke she is not so tactless as to tell the dark haired woman _that_.

Then she recalls the occasions when the Uchiha patriarch has forced Sasuke to lock himself in his study to work on the agreement for the upcoming summit, and how Naruto will nearly make her lose her balance on the window seat that she prefers to do her reading when he pushes said window open. He always ignores her look of disgruntled irritation and always looks strangely shy as he asks her about Sasuke. It has always been puzzling, to be asked the nature of her relationship with her husband by one who should know it so well, but she always brushes it off as one of his little quirks. Only now does she realize that there had been a hidden question that he has been too embarrassed to voice.

For a brief moment Sakura finds herself without words to say, uncertain where to begin. It is strange. Her heart had been nearly breaking scant hours ago because of implications concerning this woman, and now she is trying to put her thoughts into words in a way that doesn't sound callous or blunt—being blunt is something that Sasuke always manages to do with little effort. Pansuke…thoughts of Sasuke's cousin linger at the very edge of her mind but she stubbornly pushes them away. After all Sasuke brought them all to this villa to escape such thoughts. Finally she smiles brilliantly and suddenly knows what to say.

"I think, that when Naruto sees you, he does not see what you do. With his mother being who she is, with Naruto being who and what he is," She paused when Hinata's pale eyes predictably flash with something that can almost be called anger. It appears she does not care to hear anything that can possibly be perceived as a slur against Naruto, "he understands and does not care about your reputation. He cares about who you are and what you have accomplished. I think, Lady Hinata, that you have nothing to fear."

The strange, uncomfortable feeling that she is suddenly aware of seems to leave the room and they talk and it is not very long until it feels as if they have known each other for years.

XXX

The downpour is sudden and unexpected. There is no chance of them following through with their original plan of returning to the Uchiha Estates before the sun sets. This suits Sasuke's purposes just fine. With any luck the downpour will continue through for a couple of days. The roads in this area are treacherous in the rain at this time of the year, so isn't it just a shame that they will possibly be stuck at the villa for the next couple of days?

He leaves Naruto to finish up and close the barn and heads towards the parlor to check on the women. Only now does he acknowledge the trepidation that he feels at having left the two of them alone together. He does not doubt that his dear cousin is the source of his wife's earlier distress. (Although he thinks the word distress is an inadequate way of describing the look that was in her eyes earlier, the way she shook, and they way that she had nearly clung to him as if he were her only lifeline.) Poisoned words are how Pansuke has always operated, and something in his grows cold at the thought of Pansuke already working his seduction attempt on Sakura despite the precautions that his brother has taken against such actions. Knowing that his cousin is already hard at work and trying to ruin his marriage makes him wonder how much damage has already been caused. What if Sakura had misunderstood—and there was little doubt in his mind that she had—would she confront Hinata on it? Would such an innocent reunion between childhood friends be twisted into something more? Something worse?

It is this unease and these thoughts that have him peeking into the parlor, half-terrified of what he will see.

It is a reassurance, and a bit of a surprise to see his wife smiling genuinely as both she and Hinata have their heads bent and close together, as if they are in the middle of some serious discussion that they can't bear to let anyone else listen in on. He knows that he should be offended—and, although he is reluctant to admit it, as part of him _is_ horribly jealous—that Sakura is smiling so brightly at someone who is not him, he cannot help but feel some sort of relief that she is out of his room and talking, rather excitedly it appears, to another woman.

Not daring to disturb them, Sasuke silently makes his way up towards his room and a bath to rid himself of the chill caused by the rain. He thinks he will have the villa caretaker prepare four separate rooms. He has a feeling that Sakura will rather sleep alone tonight.

XXX

"You don't like Itachi?" This surprises Sakura. Although she knows her brother-in-law is the silent, brooding type—really he is nothing like her husband—she has never once heard of anyone not liking him .

Hinata blushes furiously. "It's not that I don't like him it's just…It's the strangest thing." Hinata taps her chin thoughtfully. "Whenever I am with Naruto there always seem to be so many mishaps when Itachi is in the room. It makes me uneasy."

"Mishaps?"

"Yes, at dinner the other night Itachi's knife flew out of his hand. It imbedded itself in the wall right by my head."

A cold feeling of dread crawls down Sakura's spine, and it occurs to her that in those rare times when she's seen her brother-in-law, she has never seen him with a woman. He always seems to be in the company of Naruto. _He couldn't—_

"I never would have thought that the Uchiha clan genius could be so clumsy."

It occurs to Sakura then, that there was a reason why Hinata has fallen so desperately in love with Naruto. They are completely perfect for each other.

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**I'm back!**

**So Sakura finally has some female companionship. Let Sasuke's personal hell begin!**

**I've been getting a couple of questions from some reviewers as to whether or not Itachi is gay. That is a question I've decided not to answer. No matter how I answer it some readers will not be happy. Lets just say that, for one reason or the other, Itachi has decided that Naruto is someone who needs to be protected from himself.**

**As an FYI, I've decided to start putting Bound on hiatus every other month so that I can start getting serious work on my novel and the works in progress, particularly the oneshots, that have long been neglected. **

**As a side note I finally have an idea as to how this will end. After this Pansuke arc there will probably only be one more before I start to wrap things up. I'm trying desperately to avoid (and any lit major should know what I am talking about) what is considered the cliché for American writing. I guess, considering the way this started, that I've already achieved that but still…**

**Sorry for the ramble. I hope you enjoyed the chapter.**


	33. An Uchiha At His Finest

**Bound  
An Uchiha At His Finest**

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**"You don't want me to sleep in this room?"

There is a strange tone to Sakura's voice and it makes Sasuke nervous that he cannot read the expression on her face. He doesn't know how to tell her that he doesn't want to—after all this particular villa has some natural hot springs near what used to be an old rock quarry that he had been hoping to put to good use—but he has a feeling that if he does it will result in something that isn't too dissimilar to the trauma that she went through when they lost their child. It is for her own good that he is doing this.

It makes perfect sense to him but he gets this rather distinct feeling that she does not see it this way. When she looks up at him again after studying the wood paneling of the floor and smiles at him, Sasuke gets the rather painful impression that he is seeing a mask. The special smile that Sakura reserves just for him is gone and he feels as if he has swallowed glass shards.

He doesn't like the way she dips into a perfect curtsy—something, he recalls, that she has not done since they first met shortly before the wedding ceremony. He moves forward suddenly, intending to take her arm and ask her what her problem is when the villa caretaker decides (of course) to choose that moment to interrupt them and inform them that dinner is ready.

Sakura turns and offers that perfect, cold smile once more.

"Shall we go my lord husband?"

XXX

Even Naruto notices that there is not something quite right and that there is an unusual sort of tension between the couple. He looks over at Hinata. She returns the unspoken question with a slight nod even as the most adorable blush dusts her cheeks. Her milky eyes narrow and she does not hesitate to take the closest seat next to the pink-haired woman. For some reason or another Sakura has chosen a seat that makes it impossible for Sasuke to take a seat closer than Hinata.

Naruto takes a seat that is a relative distance away from all parties and stares mournfully at the clear broth that is set before him by the caretaker. Would it have been that much to ask for them to at least serve it with ramen noodles?

He has already made a decision to stay out of whatever mess Sasuke has managed to get himself into. Women are much too complicated, he decides. Sometimes he even has trouble figuring out what Hinata is thinking and she is the most straight forward and honest girl that he knows.

It is thusly that Naruto returns to his meal—if somewhat mournfully— and wonders how an Uchiha villa can serve such substandard—

Ooh! Steeak.

Although the thought of having a finely cooked steak doesn't make him completely despair the lack of proper food, he can't help but feel that this is going to be a very long meal.

XXX

"He hates me." Sakura whispers mournfully, wrapping her arms around her knees as shadows cover the corner that she is curled in.

Hinata, for her part, can only stand and be torn between amusement and sympathy. Sasuke, she remembers, has always been rather awkward when it comes to saying the right thing. How many times did she burst into tears during their childhood just because he said something that came out harsher than he had intended. The surge of jealousy when Sakura curls into a ball so that she can wallow in her self pity is sudden but not unexpected. Hinata does not envy her for her relationship with Sasuke, but she does envy the closeness that they share. A sense of longing washes over her and, oh, what she wouldn't give to have Naruto to say something so awkward to her that it has her stumbling over the wrong conclusions.

But, and not without a trace of bitterness, she has resided herself to her fate. For Naruto is nothing like Sasuke, even if he can be awkward in his own way. Naruto is so very bright. Something that must be a result of the simplicity of his upbringing. He is like a cheerful beacon that pierces through the oppressive nature of a clan household. Perhaps it is because he can make smile so easily, and that he makes an effort to make sure that she is happy, that Hinata loves him. She shakes her head suddenly. Now is not the time for such thoughts.

As much as she thinks Sakura is being as foolish as her husband, Hinata can understand all too well the pain of not knowing, the pain of wondering if the one she loves cares for her at all.

It is not because of the slender band of white gold, crusted with its chips of dark sapphires and rubies that she thinks Sakura is being foolish. After all the wedding ring is nothing more than a cheap symbol, a declaration of duty, not love. It is the way that Sasuke is so very careful around Sakura that she envies her and thinks the pink haired woman is a fool. The way he hovers over her (even if it is done so carefully that no one but an old friend would notice), or the desperate way he holds her—as he did earlier when Sakura had looked as if she was having trouble breathing.

Hinata frowns at this thought. Perhaps that is why Sakura is so uncertain, so terrified of her husband's feelings.

She has always considered herself lucky that she has never encountered Sasuke's infamous cousin. It is possible that it is the weight of the Hyuuga name that protects her but if Pansuke is the reason why Sakura is so miserable now and the reason why Sasuke is acting like such an idiot then she finds that she wouldn't mind being left alone with him. Oh, how she would love to show him that Hyuuga women are not as fragile as some of the women that marry into the Uchiha household.

But she can say none of this, at least not yet. For now all she can do is take a step forward and crouch down on the floor in front of Sakura and reassure her that everything is fine. Or as fine as things can be with Sasuke.

"I don't want to go back." Sakura cries suddenly and Hinata frowns at the way her voice is trembling. Her nails are digging into her pale skin as she hugs herself. "I can't go back there." She uncurls and Hinata is surprised at the tears that stain Sakura's cheeks and the way the corners of her eyes are red. "They'll—" She shudders suddenly, as if her possible fate at the hands of whomever this 'they' is, is just too horrible to think of.

"Who don't you want to go back to Sakura?"

"My—the Haruno's." Sakura curls into a ball at Hinata's sudden intake of breath and whimpers.

While Hinata still thinks that her roommate for the night is being foolish, for the first time the Hyuuga heiress can understand her fear. She does not know the exact details of what happened to Sakura on that night so many months ago but she knows enough. She knows that a faction of the Haruno clan has incurred her childhood friend's wrath in a manner that very few are foolish to do. She knows that on the night of that attack, after Sakura was recovered and sedated that Sasuke did not hesitate to go to his brother, a master in cruelty—or so it is rumored, for assistance.

There are many things about that night that Naruto does not speak of and for that Hinata is grateful. She knows that she is better off not knowing. What she does know is that the Harunos had dared to inflict terrible brutality on one of their own simply because she had done what was expected of her. She places a gentle hand on Sakura's shoulder.

"You worry too much and you worry unnecessarily." She keeps her voice soft even though she doubts that any of the men are near her room. (Oh, how she dares to wish that she could share a room with Naruto!) Sakura's expression is one of disbelief so Hinata continues. "Tell me, Sakura. Have you ever made love to Sasuke?" It is a moot question, one that they both know the answer to, but it is necessary in order to make a point.

The way Sakura flushes crimson is answer enough.

"See?" She settles back on her heels as she brushes a stray lock of ebony hair behind her ear. "He does not hate you."

"But he could—"

"Trust me, Sakura." This time she can't quite keep her exasperation out of her voice. "I have known Sasuke for a very long time and he will never be the type to go through the motions of conceiving a child for the sake of the clan. He is too awkward and too shy for that. Even if Lord Fugaku were to order it himself Sasuke would still not lay with you if he did not care for you; and…" This time Hinata's expression turned sly. "From the rumors that I have heard on how often he takes you to his bed I would wager that Sasuke cares for you very much."

"What about that first night?"

The question makes Hinata pause. For a moment she is not quite certain how to respond to that although it is more due to the unexpected nature of the question than anything else.

She wants to tell Sakura that, really, in a political marriage the first night never counts, but that will make her seem irresponsible especially after everything that she has just said. The answer that comes to her makes her grimace, but it is all that she has. Besides given all that she has seen of the young couple it could very well be the truth.

"It would have been impossible for Sasuke to know you that night, but I know that there was something that he saw in you that captivated him." She mentally flinches because the words are much too sweet, even for her.

Sakura wipes at the tears that still linger at the corners of her eyes and manages to smile.

"I think, Hinata, that we both know that is a lie. A very pretty and flattering lie, but a lie nonetheless." She grimaces as if in memory. "The traditional wedding garb of my blood kin is little more than layers of brightly colored gauze. I was whisked away to Sasuke's rooms after the ceremony and I was kept covered in a white mantle until he returned to complete the wedding rituals." Sakura's mouth takes on a sardonic twist. "I was wearing next to nothing when he saw me. If there was anything that could have captivated him then it was probably my breasts."

"Try not to fault him for that too much, Sakura." Hinata murmurs faintly, her cheeks red at the light chastisement. "After all, Sasuke is only male, and even they are prone to weakness. It still doesn't change the fact of the matter that he does care for you. He wouldn't have taken you to this villa otherwise."

"I know." She sits up, still smiling faintly. With the exception of her reddened eyes all trace of her earlier tears are gone. Her expression turns to one of faint embarrassment as she carefully tucks her feet under her. "I guess…I just needed to hear it from someone who doesn't panic at the first sign of tears. I know I'm being silly, but I still don't understand why he insisted on separate rooms for everyone. I wish he hadn't, especially after what had happened earlier."

"That is because he is Sasuke and he is an Uchiha. Those are two things that never should be mixed. Or is he Sasuke because he is an Uchiha?" This makes Sakura laugh.

"Are they really that bad?"

"If that hasn't become apparent to you yet, then you will find out soon enough. I know that there are a few among them that will not hesitate to argue with the heads of my family come the summit, treaty or no."

Sakura seems to consider this and shakes her head, muttering under her breath. "I guess there are some things that are just common to all families of prestige. So Sasuke doesn't hate me and he isn't repulsed by me." Hinata sighs at the hint of lingering doubt that creeps into the other woman's voice. "That still doesn't explain why he wanted us to sleep apart tonight. Every since we got married, I can't really remember a time when my bed has been cold."

For a very brief moment Hinata almost thinks that she hates Sakura for that comment. It vanishes but it brings her to the problem, how her father is pushing her to start to choose a husband. Unlike some clans, and it is surprising, but he does not seem to be so concerned about lineage—this time at least. It is a nice change, and it gives her a chance to have a husband of her choosing.

Now if only she can get Naruto to notice her in the way that she wants to be noticed.

Hinata is so lost in her thoughts, thoughts that she is so certain that she is doing a good job of hiding, that she does not notice the odd way that Sakura is looking at her.

"It really is too bad," she says, "that Sasuke decided to be so hard headed tonight." Trepidation fills Hinata's belly as Sakura's expression turns sly. "I'm sure you would have especially liked to share a room with Naruto, as well."

Hinata flushes and wonders how things could change so suddenly. Briefly, she wonders if even Sasuke has seen this side of his wife. Sakura scoots forward and her expression can only be called devilish. "You were probably as disappointed as I was when Sasuke decided to arrange for four separate rooms, weren't you?"

"I…I never would have…I…I mean…it's just—it's not proper. I…I not…we're not…"

Sakura laughs and stands up in a fluid graceful motion that Hinata envies.

"If you will help me think of a way to get back at Sasuke—and tell me why he pulled this—I will do everything I can to get you together with Naruto."

Hinata normally does not think of herself as a particularly vindictive person, but she finds that she is looking forward to helping Sakura accomplish this.

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**Because Sasuke wouldn't be the Sasuke we know and love if he didn't suffer from open-mouth-insert-foot syndrome. For some reason I could not resist the Homer Simpson reference.**

**I know I'm behind by two updates, but the chapters have been written. All that waits is the edit. Expect one on Thursday and another on Saturday...most likely.  
**


	34. Trepidation

**Bound  
****Trepidation**

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Sasuke is not pleased to find that sleep is hard in coming. There is a warmth from his bed that is missing, a softness that is not pressing against him. Even knowing this result is of his own making only serves to make him more irritable. He snarls at the caretaker when the middle aged woman comes by his room and asks if he wants a nightcap.

She sniffs at him, and mutters something about a lack of manners befitting a son of the crimson eyed clan. He ignores her, resting his head against his pillow. It is when the combined silence and the lack of that familiar warmth becomes nearly suffocating that he slips from his bed. He does not make a conscious effort to head for the room that has been designated for his wife, but that is where he soon finds himself.

Sasuke blinks, and feels rather dumbfounded for, when he peers through the darkness he sees that her bed is completely undisturbed. The gown that Sakura had been wearing earlier in the day is thrown haphazardly over the coverlet. Worry does not cross his mind, although that is his normal response when he cannot find Sakura where she should be. This time it is irritation. It does not take him long to hunt down Naruto, who is outside staring up at the stars and looking oddly contemplative.

"Where is Sakura?"

Naruto glances over at his normally immaculate friend. Better The growled demand does not impress him. He is not surprised that Sasuke still has not learned that he is someone who cannot be easily kowtowed. He returns his gaze to the stars gleaming in the night sky. The air smells nice and he is really not in the mood for the nice atmosphere to be ruined by Sasuke's displeasure. Naruto cocks his head as he studies a particular constellation. He does not know much about stars but he is certain that group of stars to the east is named after a ramen god. It must be for all that the cluster looks like the divine food.

Sasuke is still seething silently next to him, but it is only when Naruto notices that the Uchiha seems to be considering doing him bodily harm that he decides to take pity and tells him where Sakura last went off. He feels bad about it; after all he had promised Hinata.

"She and Hinata went to the hot springs. I think they said they wanted to get better acquainted."

A lack of self-preservation has Sasuke ignoring the last part. Grumbling under his breath, his displeasure vivid, he stalks down the path that leads to the hot springs. His dark eyes glare at the sky. Clearly the sky is at fault. If the rain had kept falling like it was supposed to, then there would be no need for him to hunt down his wife.

He pauses only when he hears the slightly melodious sounds of female voices. Steam is rising over the natural barrier that hides the springs from view and Sasuke eagerly steps towards the only entrance. For a moment he forgets Naruto's words, a tacit reminder that Hinata will be there as well. He doesn't care. In his mind's eye he can clearly see his wife's naked body, and he rather anticipates—

Any thoughts of a pleasurable night-time interlude spent at the villa's springs is brought to a crashing halt as the caretaker suddenly appears and blocks his path. Her dark eyes are narrowed and something, disappointment maybe, creeps into her voice.

"Is it necessary for me to remind you, Lord Sasuke, that the women are bathing in private at the moment? If you wish to use the springs then you will have to wait."

The caretaker's gaze is steely and it is obvious that she has no intention of moving. Briefly Sasuke considers using force to get her to move.

"Don't even think about it, puppy." Her voice is as steely as the look in her eyes. "Do I need to remind you that I trained with both your Lady Mother and the Healer Tsunade? Besides, of which, I doubt Lady Sakura would appreciate the interruption."

The underlying threat is blatant, and the possible consequences are enough to make him think twice when she slides into a defensive position. Seeing no other option, he turns around with a snort. It is not that he is actually afraid of the woman, but if she is tough enough to train with Tsunade then that means that despite her age she is tough enough to be difficult. Although he does not doubt that Sakura will never reprimand him for causing such a disturbance he knows that Hinata is not so restrained. He is probably the only one who knows that she will not hesitate to drop her shy, patient demeanor if she feels it is necessary. Sasuke rubs at his arm once he is hidden from the caretaker's view, remembering the nasty bruise he had sported for days as a result of incurring her wrath during his youth.

He scowls in displeasure before making his way up to his wife's room. After all she has to come out of the bath at some point, and he will be here for her when she does. He settles himself into a plush chair that is half hidden by shadows and is surprised when his cheek brushes up against something soft. He pulls back to stare dumbly at the gold and ivory material covering the chair. This first thing that his dusty brain registers is Sakura's scent. Sweet and smelling vaguely of the honeysuckle that she likes to keep by the window seat where she prefers to read. Leaving forward, he pulls the soft material away from the chair so that he can study it properly, before settling back in his seat. He recognizes the delicate gold embroidery that is stitched into the shape of a phoenix. It is the shawl that he bought for her shortly after their marriage, when he had started to realize that being married to Sakura wouldn't be so terrible after all.

He holds the soft material of the shawl to his cheek and breathes in her scent once more. Sasuke finds that he feels a…yearning. Fine He wraps the ivory silk around his hand and decides that Sakura will not get it back until she apologizes properly.

Although for the life of him he can't think of what she could have to apologize for.

XXX

A noise, the sound of a wolf howling in the distance, startles him awake. Sasuke looks around wildly and his brain is slightly muddled from the lingering remnants of sleep. When did he drift off? His mouth has that annoying fuzzy feeling and it is only when the lightning flashes that he realizes it is raining again. His mouth curves into a smirk. It looks like his wife will be heading back sooner than she had anticipated.

So he settles back into his chair, listening to the irritating sound of the antique clock, the shadows still covering his form. It is only when the clock strikes midnight that it occurs to him that, perhaps, Sakura may not be coming back to the room he had assigned for her at all.

He walks through the empty corridors with a sense of purpose. He stops only once to peer out of an open window when a large, abrasive sound that cannot possibly be thunder reaches his ears. He is surprised (although, in retrospect, he really shouldn't be) to see Naruto resting on the roof, snoring loudly. An outcropping of wood and shingles is the only thing that is keeping him dry and it is just barely at that. Sasuke makes a mental note to locate the caretaker—or possibly Hinata—after he has located his wife. He would rather leave the fool out there but he knows that he will never hear the end of it if Naruto were to get sick and die. Hinata would certainly never speak to him again if that were to happen.

It is rather fortunate for Naruto that he comes across the older woman on his way to Hinata's room, for what he finds there is quite enough to make him forget about old friends that are foolish enough to risk death in the rain.

XXX

Stunned. That is the only possible way to describe how he feels as he peers into the crack through Hinata's door. The door is barred, locked, and warded with an efficiency that can only come from a Hyuuga. He can hardly understand what it is that he sees before him.

Hinata has obviously gotten quite wicked over the years for the door is open just enough to allow him a clear view of the room. It is obvious that she has anticipated what he would do and has decided to punish him in the worst manner possible. To allow him to witness Sakura, her green eyes bright in a way that he has never seen before, her cheeks flushed with happiness as she laughs. Before this moment Sasuke would have thought that the smile she always reserves just for him to be the most beautiful smile that she can possibly have. How odd and frustrating it is that this new smile makes the special one she reserves for him seem so pale in comparison.

For a brief—so very brief—moment Sasuke finds himself almost wishing that he could kill Hinata.

It is in that moment that Hinata looks up and her lips curve into a smile that can only be called wicked as she distracts Sakura enough so that the other woman remains oblivious to what is going on. He cannot see the paper that Hinata is showing her.

"Give me a moment, Sakura." She suddenly says and she gets up from the floor where the two of them have been sitting.

For a moment Hinata disappears from view, then there is a rustle of silk and all he can see is the violet and ebony brocade of her gown. Sasuke looks up and glares right into the milky eyes of his old childhood friend.

"Let me in." He growls. "My wife needs to be with me."

"I think not." Hinata says softly, her voice only having a hint of an edge to it. "We may go back a very long way, Sasuke, but do try and remember that you are only male. It is not good for Sakura to be locked away with no one but you for company. I understand why you did this tonight, but don't you ever assume that you know what is best for your wife. I believe Lady Mikoto would be ashamed of your actions on this night if she knew what was happening. I think it would be best if you spent tonight, tomorrow, and perhaps the next day, reflecting on what you have done and how it might have harmed your wife."

"Hinata, what are you doing?"

"Now if you will excuse me, Sakura and I are planning a shopping excursion to the village tomorrow."

The door all but slams in his face after that, and Sasuke stands there for a very long time, his brain having difficulty processing what, exactly, has just happened.

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**Sorry about the late update. As a result the next chapter will be up on Sunday.**

**I had actually intended this chapter to be much shorter. I also decided to tweak with Hinata's usual character a bit. Let's see if you enjoy it.**


	35. Liquid Courage

**Bound  
Liquid Courage**

_

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_Sakura really doesn't want to go downstairs for dinner the next evening. She feels a little guilty having spent the entire night in Hinata's room. She doesn't regret it, far from it. She has never had any real friends. Shika had been the closest thing she had to a friend and their interactions were always watched by guardians once they had turned eleven. Apart from her cousin, the only friends that she can really remember are the servants' children and those friendships had not lasted past the Maiden's Ceremony, a day when the women in the Haruno clans were separated from the children and started their education to mould them into cultured women that any man would be glad to have for a wife.

The time she finds herself spending with Hinata is refreshing and she finds herself able to laugh again. If she allows herself to stop and think about it Sakura finds herself dreading the summit that is slowly drawing closer. In a month it will be here. Once the summit between the Uchihas and the Hyuugas arrive there will be little time for her to spend with Hinata. As the Hyuuga heiress it will be necessary for her to attend all of the endless meetings. As Sasuke's wife it would be presumed that it would be necessary for her to attend as well, but that is uncertain given that she is a Haruno by birth.

Sakura shakes her head and goes back to running her brush through her pink locks. She is no longer a Haruno. She stopped being one the moment she and Sasuke exchanged vows—the promises of eternity, love, duty, and companionship.

She forcefully pushes the thoughts and memories to the back of her mind and concentrates on the task that is set before her.

"Will this really work, Hinata?"

Hinata smiles at her impishly. "This is something that my handmaiden, Ino, told me about some time ago. She is very popular with some of my cousins, and they can be just as stubborn as Sasuke. More than once have they done things that she didn't like. So she did this, in addition to withholding," and Hinata blushes at this, "physical intimacy from them. It drove them crazy. Some of them were actually tripping over themselves to apologize. Don't worry."

Sakura puts down her brush and allows the villa caretaker to twist her hair into elaborate braids and curls that are piled high on her head, with only the occasional curl brushing against her bare nape. The caretaker Osira, it seems, was the bastard daughter of a minor Uchiha cousin who has proved herself to be useful to the clan. Although her status as a result of her birth is not enough to permit her access to a stipend from the clan treasury, Lord Fugaku (through some persuading by his wife) gave her the villa to care and look after. The clan pays for all expenses and as she ages the funds will allow her to hire servants as necessary. It is something that will allow her to live out the rest of her life in relative comfort and is a reward for her fierce service to the clan as one of the warriors that has only ever been seconded by Lady Mikoto and Lady Tsunade.

Sakura winces at the tightness of her hair as she considers this new information. There is so much that she doesn't know about her new family. None of her brothers or cousins, not even Shika, had spoken to her about the war and the endless battles. She had never known that someone as high ranking as her mother-in-law or as important as the amber eyed healer fought in the battles against her birth family.

Ume and a few of the daughters from previous generation or from branch clans are the only women who have ever fought for the Harunos. How different would things be if Sakura and her other sisters had been brought up in the same manner that Ume had.

She shakes her head. Now is not the best time to think of such things. Now she needs to think on how she needs to seduce Sasuke. Sakura sucks in her breath, cringing as a corset is tightened around her waist. Oh, how she hates these things.

Her stomach is full of twisting butterflies at what she is about to do. She has never done anything like this before, at least she has never succeeded at doing anything like this before. She vividly remembers that time after the…attack…when she had been so certain that she was completely healed and that she needed his touch, his reassurance. She closes her green eyes in an attempt to block out the memory. Instead she forces herself to remember what Hinata had said last night, the reason that she has to remind herself as to why she has agreed to do this in the first place.

XXX

_Sakura isn't quite sure when they started talking about families. Hinata was lingering near the door and acting so strangely such a short while ago. Now they are sitting by the large, open window listening to the rain fall and drinking the melted chocolate drink that Osira has just brought in. All she knows is that she finds herself telling Hinata more about her life in the deserts that her blood kin claims as home __than__ she has ever __told__ Naruto or Sasuke. It is a refreshing feeling to tell the other woman all of __her__ frustrations of living there, of having a twin who __wa__s permitted to fight, while growing up knowing that she __would__ be nothing more __than__ a bargaining chip. Hinata is silent, her mouth curves into a half smile, as she lets Sakura vent for the first time in her life. _

_It is nearly overwhelming, the way she cannot stop talking, her hands curling in agitation as she speaks of the time her father had decided to give her to the Uchiha. _

"_Even you should be able to manage this much." Her throat tightens at the memory. "That's what he said to me. I didn't know what to think, after this war has been going on since even before my father's time, and we were raised to think that the Uchiha were the epitome of evil. Shika was the only one of my cousins who had ever wondered if there was more to it __than__ that." Sakura lays a hand over her belly, her fist tight enough that her nails are digging into her skin. "I knew that there was something…off, something more that my father wasn't telling me, but Shika wasn't there for me to ask. It wasn't until…" She knows that if she allows her mind to dwell on it then the memories of that night will overwhelm and suffocate her so she pushes them back, "it was a while before I understood what I wasn't being told. Before I understood what it really was that they had expected me to do. If Shika was still alive—if he had been there for me to talk to…then maybe all of it could have been prevented." _Maybe Sasuke could have been ready.

_The memories and the emotions still weigh on her heavily, and are most likely something that she will never be able to deal with properly for quite some time, so Sakura can't help the sudden surge of irritation when she looks up and sees Hinata's brow furrowed as if she is in deep thought. It is something that she is has learned to suppress for the past five years, but strangely that control comes __perilously__ close to snapping when the woman who she has started to regard as a tentative friend is not even paying attention or noticing her inner turmoil. _

_The silence does not last long and when Hinata finally turns her milky eyes back on Sakura her expression if thoughtful. "This cousin of yours—__"_

"_Shika."_

"_Shika." Hinata repeats slowly. "His full wouldn't happen to be Shikamaru Naru, would it?" _

_Everything in Sakura freezes in that instant and she can only meet Hinata's question with a dumb sort of silence. _

XXX

The memory serves its purpose and renews her determination. Shortly after he was banished rumors of Shika's death had reached the palace and had been taken for fact. Now that she knows that her favored cousin is alive, and not only alive, he is living in an off shoot of the same building that she is she finds that she is going to have a little bit of trouble forgetting it.

For once Sakura decides to be stubborn and forget the fact that, in actuality, it is very unlikely that Sasuke knows of Shika's relationship to the Harunos, that he is of their blood, and—in the event that he does—he probably assumes that she had never had the chance to know him. It is feasible, after all, given the life of seclusion that she had lived before wedding Sasuke.

This does not matter. For once she wants to be as illogical and as stubborn as her husband has the tendency to be occasionally. She wants to make him sweat and suffer just a little bit.

Sakura grasps at these tendrils of emotion and uses it to feed her on courage as she willingly slips into the sapphire gown that has more than a little slink to it.

XXX

Courage, Sakura decides, is a rather fickle thing. Already it is fading and she is rather grateful for the carafe of hot sake that Osira has suddenly brought in. She settles into the cushions that Hinata prefers and waits until her cup is filled with the hot alcohol before gulping it back. The caretaker makes an odd snort, as if she is hiding a laugh, and Hinata can only blink, her own cup of sake sitting on the table.

She blushes crimson. "I need something to—never mind. Just give me another."

The caretaker seems amused and pours more sake into each empty cup that Sakura gulps down.

It is not long before her limbs feel very relaxed. Her mind seems slightly fuzzy, but this, she discovers, is actually a good thing. Not even when she catches a glimpse of herself in a mirror and notices how the silk of the gown clings to her curves and it is cut just _so _that it reveals an ample portion of bare thigh. On contrary, it almost makes her feel desirable. She smiles wickedly, her painted lips curving up into a wide grin, and she giggles.

"I think that it is time to teach my husband some manners, don't you agree ladies?"

The expression on Osira's face is just as evil, while Hinata's is more concerned.

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**Well, it's possible that there won't be a hiatus next month. As of the writing of this, I'm three chapters away from writing all of the chapters I need to cover my writing hiatus for Bound for the month of September.**

**Also, thanks to those who let me know of the beta marks I left in the last chapter. They have been removed.**

**The next chapter has a bit more of Hina/Naru.  
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	36. Elipses

**Bound  
"…."**

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For once, Naruto finds himself not caring about the lack of ramen. At least not as much as he usually does. There is something attractive, almost sensuous about the confident, almost smug way that Hinata is holding herself as she claims the seat next to Sakura. As for Sakura…well for once Naruto decides to be wise and not comment on how well the gown clings to her curves or as to how Sasuke is suddenly a lot less sulky and annoying. By contrast, the Uchiha has straightened and Naruto decides to ignore the way his friend's eyes gleam as he takes in the occasional expanse of bare skin as Sakura sashays in before sitting in her seat.

Sasuke does not seem to be entirely certain of his own actions as he takes a determined step towards his wife. Naruto is a little perplexed at how Hinata's smirk seems to widen and the caretaker chooses that moment to step suddenly in front of Sasuke so that she can begin placing the dinner on the expansive dining table. As luck will happen to have it (and even he is not oblivious enough to think that it is completely by accident) the movement effectively halts Sasuke's progress to his wife.

To say Sasuke looks annoyed is putting it mildly.

The expression in his eyes is akin to a black fury that even Naruto has only witnessed once or twice. In any other circumstance it would be cause for concern. However, considering the way Hinata's smugness has not diminished in the slightest and how even Sakura seems to be very pleased makes the whole situation more than a little amusing.

It is different, he thinks as he takes a bit of the potatoes that make up the first serving of this meal and tries not to grimace. This interaction between Sakura and Sasuke is certainly like nothing he has ever seen before. He has never seen her ignore Sasuke quite like this. She hardly looks at him and the only time she does is always immediately followed by some conspiring whispers with Hinata and a high pitched giggle that only serves to irritate his friend even more. She seems to pay it no mind, and Naruto quickly forces his attention on the Hyuuga heiress and when Sakura suddenly leans forward and her chest seems to…_heave_. He almost laughs at the sound of grinding that is coming from next to him.

It is in the moment when, out of the corner of his eyes, he notices Sasuke's grip curling around the steak knife with unusual strength, that Naruto decides that it will probably be best for his peace of mind to just ignore the other two and try to concentrate on his own problems.

It is because of this sudden decision—and the unusual concentration that he is able to apply to this task—that Naruto misses (or astutely ignores) Sasuke's harsh breathing or the way Sakura darts her tongue to catch a burgundy droplet of wine. He misses—_ignores—_the way this pink haired woman (who has somehow become important to him because she is so precious to his friend) moves, eats, and drinks in a manner that are deliberate and teasing. He misses how Sasuke's tense expressions belie thoughts that are best saved for tawdry romances and their gouge-your-eyes-with-a-torch sex scenes. Even though Naruto misses all of this he is not ignorant to the tension in the room and knows the only reason that they continue to eat dinner in as calm of a manner as each individual can muster is because all of the rules of propriety, respect, and etiquette that Lady Mikoto has ruthlessly engrained in her children.

However, the exuberant man, with his bright hair that seems to echo everything that makes Naruto _Naruto_, finds that this task is not so very difficult after all. For just as Sakura is wearing something that is far more risqué than her normal attire so is Hinata. It is the first time that he has ever seen her shoulders bare, and never before has he realized how pale and delicate she really looks. It is such a contrast, because he has seen her once hold a blade dripping with the blood of her enemies, and he knows that she is capable of the same deadly quality of her cousin who acts as a separate guardian to her. It does not matter what the rumors say about her. He knows that she is a suitable heiress for her clan, and when he stops to think about the task before him sometimes it makes his hands sweat, just a little.

Something about the dark crimson with its ebony embroidery that winds around her slender waist in the mimicking shape of a dragon is almost breath taking. The gown does not allow any glimpses of pale leg, but as he studies it Naruto realizes that his cheeks are burning and his blood quickens just a little. The gown, in combination with the gauzy midnight drape that covers her lower arms, the ruby choker with its generous stones, and the delicate obsidian drops that dangle from her ears somehow makes her impossibly black hair gleam in the candlelight. In that moment he almost curses his friend and the awkwardness with his wife, and finds that he very much wishes he was sitting next to Hinata so that he could attempt to touch those glossy strands.

It also occurs to him that he has never seen her quite like this, certainly not with such a devilish expression as she regards the couple that Naruto is pointedly ignoring. Her expression falters only slightly when she catches him staring at her and nervous fingers suddenly reach for ebony locks that are cascading over her shoulders in soft waves.

Suddenly, Naruto finds it very difficult to swallow his soup and for once he is very grateful that the caretaker does not have the foresight to prepare ramen.

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**Even though I've gotten horrendously lazy with my replies I wanted to thank everyone who was kind enough to review during my multiple updates last weekend. They served as a great motivation to try and not leave you hanging during my writing hiatus. As of my writing of this A/N (10:40pm on 8/30/10) I can say that I will have at least half the month covered. In the event that I can't I will be saving one of these chapters to post on the Friday in September. At this point expect updates at least through 9/10.**


	37. Tease

**Bound  
Tease**

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**_Sakura isn't quite certain that Hinata's idea will work until she looks into Sasuke's dark eyes and something makes her pulse quicken as his eyes smolder and she suddenly feels so very evil. Sasuke centric. Sasu/Saku. The Drunken Seduction-Hands-Off Chapter. _

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_It is rather unusual, something that he has never felt before—at least not like this, the feeling that is rather close to a feeling of rage. It is a conspiracy, a damnable conspiracy in a villa that belongs to his own family. Every attempt he makes to get closer to her so that he can just hold her is thoroughly blocked by the old caretaker. If only she wasn't a woman of the clan who would actually be a challenge then he would have removed her for her interference.

He has long since regretted his decision to invite Hinata along because it is now obvious that female companionship is the last thing that his wife needs.

Earlier Naruto had asked him if perhaps he is being somewhat obsessive. His answer is still the same. He is not being obsessive or possessive because she is _his_, damnit!

He is most decidedly not sulking as he follows the women into the parlor for a nightcap. He is, of course, very much against this. It does not matter how he appreciates the way her green eyes darken as she glances over at him or the way she moves her hips so that it shows just the right amount of thigh. A wife of the Uchiha—_his wife_—should not be walking so drunkenly in front of other men. It does not matter if it is only Naruto.

He has a sudden urge to tap his finger against his leg but is somehow able to fight it. If he is to see Sakura's hair piled high on her head, gleaming in soft fire light, wispy pink curls brushing against her neck in a teasing manner he would rather it be in the privacy of his own rooms with the tips of her hair wet and her skin pink from a very pleasing soak in the hot springs. He wants to see her hair brush against her nape only when he dislodges the pins that hold it in place. He wants to see her eyes dark in that way and her cheeks rosy only after sharing a few carafes of sake with no one but him.

She turns to Hinata, her voice suddenly soft, and he grinds his teeth as he rigidly settles in his seat. He curls his fingers into fists and tries very hard not to act like he is trying to hear what they are speaking of. After all he is an Uchiha and such things are obviously below him.

Naruto clears his throat, forcing Sasuke's attention away from the two women, and the look that Naruto gives him is one of disbelief that is bordering on irritation. He returns that look with his own glare. Whatever Naruto is thinking it is no concern of his.

A laugh, throaty and drunken, draws his attention and Sasuke suddenly finds that he is transfixed on the way Sakura's chest swells with each breath and the way she flashes an expanse of pale thigh when she shifts and crosses her leg. Suddenly his clothes feel several sizes too small and he is thinking of one thing and one thing only.

Rising from his seat is not a conscious thought and, even though, only moments ago he was very conscious of Sakura's looks and is acting in the presence of others he finds himself not caring what Hinata thinks (especially since this is all _her_ fault) as he suddenly forces himself between the two women. The action throws Hinata to the side and the sound that she emits is somewhere between a strangled gasp and a protest.

He can't quite stop himself from smirking (which he soon discovers was not a smart thing to do) and draws his rather drunk wife closer.

"I think, Sakura, that you need to rest…Sakura?" He stops suddenly as her heads suddenly rolls over to rest on his chest. She emits one soft, drunken snore and suddenly her body is almost boneless against his. While he finds this all to be rather nice, Sasuke rather wishes that she would save this for their bed. His blood quickens when she curls slightly against him, baring her neck, only obscured by two wispy curls to him. His arms tighten around her and for a moment he almost forgets that he is not in the privacy of his own bedroom.

"Gods no! My virgin eyes!"

He could cheerfully kill Naruto at that exact moment, especially when Sakura suddenly jerks in his arms and lifts her head, blinking blurry eyes.

"My head hurts."

There is a rustle of cloth and both husband and wife look over to see a sympathetic Hinata making her way towards the couple.

"Sakura, I think it's time you went to sleep. Come on."

Sasuke glares at Hinata who just regards him with a cool expression. Does she really think that he doesn't know who is responsible for his wife being in this condition? He tightens his grip around Sakura's slim form, not hesitating to splay his hand on her hip. There is certainly no chance that he is letting the two of them sleep in the same room again—

Stars suddenly dance and for a moment he can't see clearly as Sakura suddenly cracks the top of her head against his chin and in an instant she is all but jumping out of his lap. Even with the way that he feels slightly dazed, he desperately grasps for his wife's hand. She freezes suddenly and he cannot quite stop the way that his mouth pulls up into a smirk. It never even occurs to him that she might be stopping for the reason that he thinks or that the reflexive smirk might be once again the wrong thing to do. A little too late he notices that the limb he is grasping is much too soft, almost…bouncy, and only partially covered in silk.

Cheeks heating, Sasuke snatches his hand away on reflex, and is almost…insulted…that his grip is not enough to make her moan.

Her green eyes, he is surprised to find, are narrowed at him for once and she is stepping away from him, her arms crossing over her chest. Hinata is standing up while Naruto stubbornly remains seated, his expression one of apparent disinterest for the sudden drama.

Sakura carefully steps away from him when he reaches for her again and does not stop until she is standing next to Hinata.

"Come, Sakura." The Hyuuga heiress says softly, placing her hands on Sakura's shoulder to guide her to the entrance. "You need to rest."

"I can't sleep with Sasuke?" The confusion in her voice gives him hope. He knows that it is morally wrong to take advantage of his wife in such a state, but he fully intends to take advantage of it if it will mean that he will be able to sleep with her tonight.

Not that he plans on doing anything beyond sleep. He really doesn't. However Hinata's voice when she speaks is manipulative and he wonders just how much of this has been planned.

"No, you can't. Remember what we talked about? He inconvenienced Lady Osira with his insipid, pointless demand. See? He smirks at you now. Come. We'll set up the bed you used last night."

There is a sound of a window opening and a slight chill enters the room, but since it does not seem to affect Sakura, he ignores it. Instead he is more concerned with the way Sakura looks at him. She is studying his face, her eyes not straying although she seems to pay particular interest in the way his mouth is still curved up into a smirk.

Sasuke, unfortunately, cannot say the same.

It is not really his fault, of course. If anyone is to blame it must be Hinata. He knows that Sakura would never dare to dress in a gown that shows off her bare shoulders so unashamedly, so it is not his fault that his eyes keep straying to that expanse of pale skin. Movement catches his gaze and while he notes her slender hand curling into a fist he doesn't think much of it, not at first at least. When he is finally able to force himself to look back at herself he sees an expression in her darkening green eyes. They are now a dark emerald, almost wistful in disappointment and narrow in something that is an unmistakable glint of anger.

It is something that he knows he has never seen in her before.

He is speechless when something that can only be described as a mask slides into place on her face. Suddenly her expression is bright and familiar and it makes him very nervous.

"That's right, Hina!" Sakura says suddenly and cheerfully, her voice grates against his nerves slightly. "I don't want to sleep with someone who will smirk at me like that!"

Sasuke can only stare dumbly as she all but skips out of the room after Hinata.

"Well," the new voice makes Sasuke cringe. Of course, things can only get worse. "That was a spectacularly pathetic display, little brother. I know our mother taught you better manners than that."

_I swear Hinata_, he vows silently, _that I will have my revenge._


	38. Allowance

**Bound  
A Small Allowance  
An Interlude of the Hina/Naru/Ita LOVE LOVE Fest**

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**_Itachi decides that, for tonight at least, he will let that vile temptress have her way. After all now he is here and her time is limited._

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_It is much later, the moon full, high in the sky with shrouds of whispy clouds blocking its silvery light, that he finds them alone in the gardens.

Without so much as a chaperone!

Perhaps it is a result of that stubborn streak that is so prominent in the Uchiha genes, and a sudden unexplicable desire to show that he is not as mule headed and foolish as his little brother, that is Itachi's reason for keeping his silence and remaining hidden from the two. Perhaps it is also a reluctant reward to the young heiress in the slight amusement that her machinations has provided.

For Sasuke is sulking and has ordered Osira to provide him massive amounts of alcohol. The sly caretaker has refused, of course, and so his little brother has been left to his own devices. Seeing his brother lower his pride enough to seek out the local tavern in the hopes of drowning his sulking misery in sake and whisky gives Itachi ideas. The ideas, he admits, are relatively evil and if he were a proper brother he will not follow through with them. Unfortunatly for Sasuke there is a sort of seduction in these ideas and plans. For, after all, his brother is acting very foolishly and it is time for him to realize that there can be dire consequences for acting in the manner that he has.

It is best if Sasuke learns the lesson now, in the privacy of the family villa where none but the direct heirs to the Uchiha clan, and their guests, are permitted to enter. It is best if he learns constraint and control as far as his wife is concerned away from Pansuke's plots.

Itachi's own contstaint, however, is suddenly hard to grasp when the temptress turns away suddenly from the guileless Naruto, angling and twisting just so that her midnight waves of loose hair fall over her shoulders, the white skin of her neck bare.

The bright haired man is, after all, only male and is unable to turn away. It is part of why Itachi knows that he must protect Naruto, this innocence to not stop a think about the consequences. He is not so very different from Sasuke. In that aspect at least.

He does not need to grit his teeth although he does find that he needs to force himself to turn away. He needs to be careful, after all he is rather aware that if he is to give the Hyuuga heiress too many chances like this then she will utterly ruin Naruto's life. He knows that he will find no help in Sasuke—after all a childhood bond is a powerful thing—and it has now become apparent that his sister-in-law will be reluctant to see the dangers that lies before Naruto. Itachi takes carefully measured steps as he heads towards the villa. After all, he does need to see that, especially considering his brother's foolish actions, there is space enough for him to claim his own room. Because it has only ever been intended for the use of the immediate family of the clan leader there had never been any need to expand on the main building to make it more then the modest structure that is already is. Normally this is not something that will be enough to cause concern but there are people that will be making their way towards the villa over the next few days.

A sudden wind pulls at the inky strands of his hair ruthlessly as he forces his mind from the cruel seductress and seeks out Lady Osira.

More then once he finds it necessary to remind himself of the amusement that she provided just a short while ago. Still as amusing as it was to see his little brother make a complete and utter fool of himself it also serves as an almost brutal reminder to Itachi that Hinata will never be as innocent as she seems. She will always be plotting, always planning.

Not for a moment does he consider that this might give him cause to worry of her plans for Sasuke and Sakura. After all, the brilliant Uchiha heir has his own plans to form to torment his brother.

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**If some sentences seem awkward I apologize. Unless otherwise noted the first post of chapters will be unedited until sometime next year.**


	39. Hangover

**No this is not an illusion. This an honest to goodness update. I will posting some info on my bio later to explain the changes that are being made to Bound.**

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****Bound  
Hangover**

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**_In which Sakura finally understands what Ume meant by 'alcohol bad, tree pretty'__and that her husband has the stubborn mentality of a five year old boy. Sasu/Saku_

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The warm sunlight, normally such a pleasure to wake up to, only serves to amplify the blazing agony of her head. She wants nothing more than to hide under the covers for several reasons. Her head, right now, seems to appreciate the darkness. While the horrendous pounding certainly doesn't go away, at the very least it does lessen.

For the first time in her married life, Sakura feels an irrational sort of hatred (or at the very least irritation) towards her husband. Even though a part of her reminds herself that she is being horribly childish she finds that she really doesn't care. Her head is in too much agony to appreciate any of the complexities that resulted in Sasuke making the decision that he did. For a moment she allows herself to be weak and childish. After all, if he hadn't forced her hand in this manner then she would be in his bed curling against his warmth to hide from the pain.

Or she could have been enjoying a different sort of warmth in his bed.

Still, as Ume is so fond of saying: "It is what it is." She cannot change what happened last night any more than she can make the horrible pounding in her head go away. Briefly, Sakura wonders where Osira went. The caretaker had stopped by only moment ago to see if she was suffering much and vowed to return with a concoction that she promises will work wonders.

The tick of the delicate golden clock and the small silk bird perched on it that warbles birdsong on the hour (_every single hour_) is unbearable and she doesn't bother to stifle her moan as she buries her head under the pillows. If only she could find the energy to get up and undo the ties that keep the curtains from being drawn. She had made the mistake of trying that earlier. The combination of lethargy and nauseating dizziness is still horrible enough that for a moment she had been certain she was dying.

It is only a short moment of silence before the silken bird warbles another sweet song. At any time she would be fascinated by the elaborate contraption. Her blood family has certainly never seen anything so intricate before. However, at the moment she just wishes that the fax bird with its brightly colored silk will meet a horrible, flaming death.

She presses her hands against her ears as her head pounds with each warble and wonders if perhaps it will be less painful to hit her head violently against the marble and iron wrought fireplace.

Except the effort it will take to make her way over to the fireplace will only make her feel like throwing up again. So perhaps not.

It is only when the silk bird's warbling stops and the room is suddenly shrouded in comforting darkness that she is able to crawl out from under her covers and her pillows to notices that she is not as alone as she thought. Only this time it is not the comforting presence of Osira. Sakura is not certain if she is disappointed that it is not Sasuke but rather his brother that is standing next to her bedside. His aristocratic features are drawn together in sympathy, and Sakura decides that she is not disappointed. After all, a stubborn and surprisingly vengeful part of her mutters, it is unlikely that Sasuke will even show her that much concern.

Her current migraine is too agonizing to admit that, perhaps, that thought is a little unfair to Sasuke.

Trying desperately to think past the constant throbbing in her head, Sakura smiles in what she hopes is a genuine manner before speaking.

"Good evening, Brother." The words manage to come out cordially enough but the regal effect is ruined when she gasps and winces. Apparently this hangover will not allow her to speak as she normally would.

A curious expression crosses Itachi's fine features and it is only as he leans forward, the long strands of his hair brushing over his shoulder that it occurs to her how he is very handsome in a way that is so different from her husband.

"Call me Itachi." He says, his teeth flashing white as he smiles. "And there is no need to waste energy on formalities, Sakura. I may be the clan heir, but I have never cared for them. Besides, when one is suffering in the manner that you are it is best to stay as still as possible while others cater to your needs." For a moment he looks away from her. Something about the action seems carefully deliberate, planned, although she doesn't understand why. When he continues she nearly frowns in displeasure at his next words. "After all, someone must since it is very obvious that my brother intends to continue his foolish display."

Instead of risking more agony by frowning, Sakura slides back, letting her head rest against her pillows and glowers at the embroidery on the coverlet.

"Sasuke is—" She starts to say only to be interrupted.

"There is no need to make excuses for him." He says smoothly. "Although we have not really had the chance to talk I can tell you this—my brother is a very foolish person, as I have said before. It often gets him in a lot of trouble." His mouth curls up into a grin that can only be described as sly. "As a thank you for last night let me tell you a few tales about Sasuke growing up."

Itachi seats himself on her bed, not very far from her, but it is not his sudden proximity that makes her blush. _Oh gods,_ he had witnessed her display last night? Whilst Sakura is hardly ashamed of the way she acted last night—she still firmly believes this it is justified—it is one thing to act in that manner with Hinata and Naruto present. Hinata is, after all, swiftly becoming a dear friend. Naruto, well, there are times when she almost feels as if he is a brother. She certainly sees him often enough to be comfortable in his presence even when Sasuke isn't around. It is an entirely different matter to know that Sasuke's brother, someone she has hardly had the chance to know properly, also be a witness.

Yet despite her mortification and the way her cheeks burn—not to mention that she is still quite angry with him—Sakura finds herself very eager to hear childhood tales of her husband. The eagerness is such that she is rather unprepared for the cool mug that Itachi pushes into her hands.

"Before I begin, drink this. This is the remedy that Lady Osira prepared for you. It works wonders and does not taste as terrible as other hangover remedies, particularly the type that I hear the desert folk prefer to use."

Sakura vividly remembers the tales that Ume would tell her—albeit rarely—after a long night spent drinking with the other warriors of the Haruno clan. Always she would swear off any alcohol after that and complain about the bitterness of the brew that the clan healers would present to her. Of course, such proclamations would never last long for it was always within a few months' time that Sakura would find her twin in the same position once again. It is these memories that make her sip at the concoction hesitantly. She is rather pleasant surprised at the sweet mixture of jasmine and honey that she tastes in the cool liquid. It is actually quite…good. Taking care not to rush, because there is not as much of the concoction as she would like, Sakura concentrates on draining the mug. She completely misses the way Itachi angles his body and shifts closer to her.

XXX

Sasuke's dark eyes narrow, swirling crimson as he watches Sakura and Itachi silently through the bedroom window. His hand clenches when is brother moves close enough that—_damn him_—that he can see the end of the strands of Itachi's hair brushing against his wife's skin. It is only the heavy gaze of that damnable caretaker that stops him from acting. The corner of her mouth curves up into a sort of half smirk.

She looks so damn sure of herself that Sasuke is filled with this sudden desire to hurt her. It is fierce enough that it actually startles him. He looks away from the old caretaker in favor of seeing _his wife_ flirt with _his brother. _

All manner of thoughts flit through Sasuke's head and none of them are particularly pleasant. That sudden urge to kill nearly boils his blood when Sakura turns to face Itachi, her face so close that her nose nearly brushes his hair. Her green eyes brighten and she laughs at something his brother says. For a moment everything about his wife seems bright, devastatingly beautiful, and he finds himself wanting to forgive her, to allow her this small indulgence. Then her face twists into a pained expression and she bends forward, her mouth open as if gasping, her slender fingers reaching up to press against her temple.

For one brief moment the fire of his temper abates and eases away, and he is flooded with concern. He moves forward, even as a small voice reminds him that really, the blame of her pain, lies with herself and Hinata. After all he cannot recall a time when he has ever seen Sakura touch a tumbler of liquor outside of the wine that is served with meals. Frustration courses through him that is fueled by a memory of last night (the cut of her gown and the way it had flashed thigh, the way she had occasionally pressed against him) even as he watches his brother move forward and touch Sakura's shoulder. For a moment Sasuke is not certain if it is his own rage speaking but he is almost certain that Itachi looks out the window and their gazes lock. In that moment it seems as if his brother's mouth is quirking up into a smirk, and he knows that he has not imagined the smug arrogance in his brother's expression.

Then Itachi is moving, his hands pressing against Sakura's slim shoulders to cushion her against the pillows as his long, dark hair spills over, effectively shielding the form of Sasuke's wife from his sight.

Thoughts of rushing to her side to offer comfort vanish, because it is apparent that she has all of the comfort that she needs.

XXX

It's not fair, Sakura thinks. The curtains have been drawn completely this time and the room is engulfed in comforting darkness. Even with the pleasant brew that has been brought to her three times over the course of the day, the pounding ache in her skull refuses to relinquish. Now she sympathizes with her twin and perversely wishes that Ume was here.

Itachi had been with her for most of the day, telling her of the time that he had once taken Sasuke out on a boating trip when her husband had been no more than seven.

"_The waters __weren't__particularly__ rough that day." He speaks smoothly and Sakura finds that she cannot help but be mesmerized by the sound of his voice. "It was not terribly so, but it was enough that a sudden change in weight would cause the boat to tip worse __than__ usual. Of course, Sasuke was never very good at staying still __but__ he loved boating."_

_It does not escape her notice, the way her brother-in-law's voice is tinged with something that can almost be called regret when he says that word, "loved." However, her mind is dwelling more on what else Itachi is telling her. She has a very difficult time picturing her husband with a wide, easy and carefree smile__,__ constantly moving, never staying still despite numerous threats of punishment. It is so unlike the man that she married that she cannot help but giggle at the thought. _

"_In the end he really left me no choice but to turn back. Sasuke complained the entire way, of course. You really should see him when something doesn't go his way. He scowls in the cutest way. Or at least he used to." Itachi sighs __dramatically__. "He can be so foolish sometimes. But I digress."_

_Sakura can't help but smile at the almost indulgent manner that __Itachi__ speaks of her husband. When they finally leave this villa to return home she will most __definitely__ need to seek him out for more stories._

"_It wasn't until we returned to the docks that we ran into problems. It didn't matter how often I told him to remain still. He still insisted on running about the boat. It really wasn't too surprising when he tripped and fell __into the water__."_

_Sakura blinks in disbelief. "He fell __out of __the boat?" _

_Itachi's mouth curves up in amusement._

"_Don't look so worried Sister. I had already tied the boat close to the shore when it happened. The water hardly reached his waist. Nonetheless, Sasuke was so convinced that he was drowning. He just flailed around in the water not bothering to put his feet beneath him until I finally managed to grab his arm. Granted, I did have difficulty pulling him up over the high side of the boat. __Fortunately__ a guard heard the voice and helped me pull Sasu-rin up."_

"_Sasu-rin?" Sakura echoes, even as she can't help but laugh at the image that the story brings to her mind._

"_I have many __pet-names__ for my foolish little brother, Sakura. In time I may teach them all to you."_

It was shortly after that when another throbbing migraine had gripped her. The ones that still continue to follow are similar. It is painful enough that she can hardly breathe and all she wants is Sasuke at her side. She needs that warmth to curl into.

Tears well in her eyes and make her hangover-driven headache that much worse. She had been so hesitant last night after hearing Hinata's plan. Perhaps it did work for someone like the heiress' handmaiden. Of course, her handmaiden sounds as if she is most likely the type of person that has no shortage of lovers. She is probably slender, fair, and well endowed. She is not the type of woman that is hardly acknowledged by her birth family, someone who is only ever seen as only a political bargaining chip.

Another stab of pain has her crying out, the sound muffled as she buries herself further beneath the covers in a futile attempt to escape it.

For a moment Sakura's thoughts deviate from their painful path as she recalls the last time she had seen Ume crouched in a shadowed corner after a night of hard drinking.

"_Bloody, vile concoction." Ume mutters as she accepts the warm blanket that Sakura holds out for her. The soft material __had been__ heated with hot sand stones and she sighs blissfully at the comforting heat. They have never been close, just because they are so different, but she cannot help but smile almost fondly at her twin. Ume's pink brows draw together in a grimace as she downs the rest of the tonic that the healers had handed her earlier. _

"_Do you want a compress?" Sakura shifts so that she can stand up quickly in the event that Ume wants one. That is highly unlikely. Her sister has always had a complex of sorts when it comes to coddling. _

"_Sakura."_

_She turns at the sound that is, really, more like a whimper. Ume's jade eyes are a bit glazed and Sakura cannot help but wonder if there is more to the drink that her twin is draining with a grimace __than__ a simple hangover tonic._

"_Light. Off."_

_Sakura smiles, even though the tone of the words sound too much like an order. Still, she covers the candles with a stopper without a word. Then she moves to the fire to tend to it._

"_Can't you get rid of that fire?" Ume whimpers._

"_I could." Sakura says, "but that would __lead __to the mildly annoying inconvenience of us freezing to death. I would think you at least would remember how cold the nights are during the winter." She uses the poker to push the logs back as she adds another piece of wood. _Ume should consider herself lucky, _s__he__ thinks. The wood that is normally used in the palace often makes the room vaguely __smoky__ and produces a subtle smell that is not altogether unpleasant. However, even that subtle scent is more __than__ Ume will be able to handle today as she is now._

_She should consider herself very fortunate that the Hyuuga Caravan that was raided yesterday was __carrying__ some of their lovely oak wood._

"_Stupid desert." Ume mutters miserably._

_Quiet fills the room for a time, with only the occasional snore serving as an interruption. The heat from the fire makes Sakura feel drowsy so she stands and moves quietly to summon a servant to bring something to keep her awake until their mother comes to watch over Ume. It is only when the slippers that her mother has always insisted that the servants wear scrape softly against the polished stone of the hallways and she jerks at the sudden sound that Sakura realizes that she has even begun to fall asleep._

_She raises from the chaise that she doesn't quite remember lying done on and removes some of the furred blankets __tangled__ between her legs. Sakura only just manages to smooth back her pink hair as her mother and her hand maiden enter the room._

_She swallows at the almost frozen look that her mother fixes her with._

_She bites the inside of her cheek to stop herself from stepping back and keeps her face carefully neutral even as she fights the urge to yawn. When the Lady Haruna turns her attention to the elder twin, the daughter with the cropped pink__ hair__ that is murmuring softly __in between__ her snores—"Fire…alcohol…bad…tree…pretty…"—her hazel eyes soften._

_Sakura stamps down on the hot resentment that threatens to well up. After all it is only to be expected. After all, Ume is the _useful_ daughter. However, she does not stop herself from glaring at her mother's handmaiden when the dark haired servant fixes her with a haughty superior look._

How dare she?

She stares up at the dark, fine material of her sheets. Ume had always been so amusingly useless after a night of hard drink and Sakura had always taken pleasure in looking after her sister who rarely allowed herself to be vulnerable.

Her mother had never cared much for that. After all, not much could be expected of the youngest twin. She tries not to think about it, tries not to think how much of a miracle it is that she was able to meet Hinata and Naruto. She tries not to think that it could very much have been impossible for her to meet Sasuke.

Just the thought of him brings frustrated tears to her eyes.

If she had known that this is how it would turn out then she never would have tried to seduce him. Sakura curls into an even tighter ball. What type of horrible person is she?

The thoughts weigh her down, like some horrible pressure—a head pain that presses down just enough so that she is always aware of its presence.

She is so very tired of crying but Sakura can't find the will to scream, to give voice to these feelings of frustration. The tears slip from her cheeks and all she can find the energy to do is stare off into the darkness, her shoulders shaking. It is a long time before sleep claims her.

Much later, when the pain of another headache is enough to pull her from her fitful sleep, she becomes aware of the feel of warm calloused hands brushing over her forehead but by the time she wakes up enough to open her eyes the person is gone.

**Because in the end, Sasuke has the mentality of a five year old and revenge is not always a good thing.**

…**somehow this Villa Arc turned into the Torture-and-Demasculate-Sasu-rin chapter.**

**So I seemed to be channeling a little bit of Inuyasha for Sasuke in this chapter…hope it's not too jarring. For those who are hoping for steamy, hot spring, Sasu/Saku make up citrus don't get your hopes up. Sasuke messed up. He should just be thankful that Sakura hasn't started training with Tsunade yet. **

**In answer to some reviews: no, the Pansuke arc is not over. This is more of a calm before the storm.**

**Also advanced warning for a slight character crossover in the form of a certain tea loving bender.**

**I was planning on ending this chapter on a darker note but the romantic in me just refused to cooperate. **

**This chapter was actually planned shortly after I decided to make Bound into a multi-chapter fic. My beta had requested an Ita/Saku/Sasu chapter. I had agreed to do a jealousy torment chapter. I actually wanted to post it some time ago but only now did I find the motivation to start writing it. I hope you enjoy it. Think of this as a many arc. So an arc, within an arc, **_**within an arc**_**. It will probably also be mixed with more then a hint of LOVE LOVE. ^^**

**Also, just a side note, the story Itachi tells is more or less a true story. It happened when my brother was getting on the boat.**

**Gagh, this is the A/N that would not end. I hate those.**


	40. Uchiha Avenger P2

**This has not been looked over by my beta so it is a bit rough. I will be reposting once she finds the time to look at it.**

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_**Bound**

**Uchiha Avenger Part Two**

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**

_As the glass digs into his bleeding hand he thinks about the possibility of revenge._

* * *

A sleepless night finds Sasuke rather restless the next morning and he curses his brother for his impromptu arrival. His plans to slip into Sakura's room the night before were stopped cold by the sight of his brother standing over Sakura, carefully brushing loose strands of pink hair away from her face.

He knows that Itachi is doing it just to irritate him. Just like how Osira had kicked him out of his own room last night. She still claims that there is nothing she can do. After all it is on his brother's orders and as the caretaker she must listen.

As if he can't see the way her eyes gleam with that evil light. He is not certain who was the first one to adopt that evil gleam, Lady Osira or his mother. Whatever the case he know that it is one of them who taught Itachi the same look.

So there is little he can do about the fact that he is now forced to sleep with Naruto.

Sasuke isn't certain which to complain about first. The way Naruto snore and hogs more then half of the bed (what on earth had possessed Itachi to move Naruto into a double room with only _one _bed?) came as a surprise. It is something that he has never experienced when the two of them have been on campaign.

He wanders over to his desk, half wondering what had ever possessed Itachi to bring the paperwork for the summit. Not that he isn't grateful. It will serve as a welcome distraction. He grits his teeth as he tries to forget about that image that seems to be ingrained in his mind.

Sakura...sighing...as Itachi leans over her, his long-almost feminine locks—not that Sasuke would ever dare to say that to his brother's face—pooling to mix with her soft pink ones. The oddly tender look on his brother's face as he—

A sudden _snap_, a sharp pain, and the feeling of something wet against his fingers pulls Sasuke sharply from his thoughts. He scowls at and nearly curses at the tiny shards of glass that are suddenly sticking out of his skin and how his blood is mixing with the dark ink.

When he sees the condition that his favored pen is in he does not hesitate to curse.

While ink and quills is the most preferred writing instruments for most scholars and scribes, one of the branch families of the Hyuuga clan has created and nearly perfected the pen. They are very popular, but unfortunately it is difficult enough to make that the price of the pens is high enough so only that the nobility and wealthy merchant families could afford them. Glass that is thin yet surprisingly sturdy is hollowed out and a bit of steel with a metal bed at the end is inserted into glass tube, which is then filled with ink.

His mother adores these pens, especially now since the creator has started selling inks that are dyed with color so to give a person different colors to write with.

Unfortunately, the pens have yet to be perfected so refilling a used pen usually requires having a craftsman trained by the Hyuugas to refill with ink. In a normal situation Sasuke would ask Hinata if she knew the secret of refilling the pens but he is not quite ready to talk to her again just yet.

Because Itachi has not anticipated on needing more, Sasuke only has one pen with his unfinished paperwork. Most likely the villa has inkwells and quills, and if it doesn't they can be easily acquired, but that does nothing to ease his irritation. After all the quality of the ink in those pens is so much better and if he is to revert to a quill then it will become embarrisingly apparent if he uses it on the final document.

Just another thing to go wrong.

_Maybe it would better if I just left. _It is a rather tempting thought. After all it looks as if _his wife_ would rather spend time with Itachi then her own husband. She still has not sought him out.

He knows that a hangover can be rather debilitating, even more so if this is the first one that she has ever experienced. It became apparrent last night that Sakura isn't terribly use to alcohol.

At Naruto's muttered comments Sasuke had discovered that he had been looking forward to going to bed but then Hinata—

Hinata...

The tiny shards of his broken pen are broken into even smaller shards at the look that had been on Hinata's face.

This entire thing is all her fault.

For a moment he is severely tempted to seek out his brother. After all Itachi has proven that he is very good when it comes to revenge.

Sasuke would almost hazard to say that it is an art to his brother.

The screams of that Haruno clansman was certainly proof of that.


	41. Consideration

**No, this is not a genjutsu. This is an actual update. For the reasons why please check out my bio.**

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**Bound  
Consideration**

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"I never thought of you as the sulking type, Hina."

The suddenness of Osira's voice is enough to startle her that she even manages to trip over her own feet. She grimaces at the way her skin scrapes against the cedar nightstand beside her and pushes her hair out of her eyes so that she can look up at the caretaker, her cheeks suddenly growing warm. She opens her mouth to protest that she isn't sulking, but instead Hinata chooses to snap her mouth shut without uttering a sound. If she were to protest to such an observation then it will just sound like nothing more than a child's whine; best to try a less juvenile approach.

"I thought it would work." She winces inwardly at how small her voice sounds. So much for being less juvenile. "Ino was always telling me how it always worked for her."

She looks up as the bed creaks when Osira sits down on it.

"I don't mean to sound disrespectful, especially since I know the girl, but there are times when Ino can be rather..."

"She's not a tramp." Suddenly she isn't feeling so uncertain about seeing Sakura and Sasuke again. Suddenly she isn't thinking about them at all. At that moment nothing matters more to her, not even Naruto, than defending the honor of the woman who has been much more than a hand maiden. Too many times the rest of the members of her clan forget that she has her own set of ears.

Her own Blade and Shield.

No one else knows that when Ino lies with a man, it is always in the dark and that she never completely sheds all of her clothes. No one knows that she wears a pale, skin colored wrap of vinyl around her waist to hide the long scar that curls around her stomach. It can't be common knowledge or people will know why her ailing grandmother had been so insistent that Ino serve Hinata. The poor woman is dead and gone now, but even Hinata's own father doesn't know the truth of Ino's purpose.

This is why she doesn't hesitate to defend Ino who has been as much of an elder sister to her as Sasuke has been a brother.

"I never said she was a tramp, Hinata, so don't get your knickers up in a twist."

"I don't wear knickers..." Why does she suddenly feel like a child that is being scolded?

Osira makes a sound that can't quite be classified as a snort. "I would never call Ino a tramp. I know her too well. Better, I suspect, than you do. However to anyone who doesn't really know her, and that includes some of the men she sleeps with, she might come across as one."

Hinata purses her lips knowing that, as much she wants to, she can't really deny that. How many times did Ino make trips to Neiji's residence to deliver something and return with her cheeks stained with the dark red of humiliation? People talk as they always do when a woman remains unmarried and yet never seems to lack male companionship.

"Are you trying to make a point?" Her voice comes out colder, harsher than she has intended. Osira looks down at her sharply and something in her expression is chastising even though the caretaker doesn't utter a word. Osira doesn't need to. Just the sound of her own voice reminds Hinata of just how much she sounds like her father with that tone. The Hyuuga heiress clasps her hands and hunches her shoulders, her eyes downcast.

"I—"

The old woman stands up suddenly, clapping her hands together. The sound is startling enough so that Hinata looks up, but she doesn't hunch her shoulders.

"No apologies now, Hina. Besides, I was trying to make a point." She pauses. "I suppose I could have gone about doing it in a better way. But last night you were stupid."

She flinches at the callous words.

"The seduction traps that Ino uses works for the type of men that she likes to go after. She's more concerned about finding someone to release her stress. She doesn't really look any closer to see if the men she goes after actually have any substance. They are shallow men that she wouldn't even consider looking at if she really wanted to have a family. You can be damn certain that if Ino was dead set on finding a husband then she would change tactics. That's where you messed up."

She feels a little better knowing that the older woman hadn't been attempting to insult her handmaiden seriously. Still, it doesn't chase away the sting of being scolded like a child. Again.

"You went along with it and didn't stop me." Gods, did she really just say that?

Osira gives her a look that clearly tells the Hyuuga heiress that she is not impressed with this defense.

"Yes, yes, I did. I will agree that it certainly was my fault for not having the common sense to try and suggest another means of attack. Regardless, what's done is done. That little tease was your idea and you need to figure out how to fix the havoc you have caused. I would appreciate it if you would fix it sooner rather than later. We have some more members of the Uchiha clan coming to visit. They were invited by Itachi." The quick way she says that last part tells Hinata that must have had a more apprehensive look on her face than she had intended.

If they are people that Itachi approves of then at least she has the reassurance that she won't have to walk on eggshells the way she usually does around the branch members of the Uchiha clan.

"What should I do?" That uncertain nervousness returns. She really should wait for a couple more days.

Osira shrugs. "I can't help you with that, Hinata. Sasuke and Sakura are still considered newly weds and as close as Naruto has told me that they've become, obviously things are still fragile between them. Enough so that Sakura misinterpreted Sasuke's actions when he was just trying to be helpful. It certainly doesn't help that Sasuke is as stubborn as he is. It makes me almost wish that Pansuke was here."

"Why?" How can anyone wish for that horrid wretch of a man?

"Sasuke's smart enough to see that man for the threat he is. Besides, based on what I've heard from Mikoto and Itachi, Sasuke doesn't react well to threats to his wife."

Hinata's shoulders slump and she hangs her head. Even though she knows Osira is right, she really wishes that someone would have the answer for her.

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**Sorry that it was so short. I'm trying. Also expect a new chapter for Wanted sometime in the near future.**

**Huge thanks to my beta for being kind enough to edit while in China.**


	42. Fantasy

**This was actually finished a couple of weeks ago. Sorry. The next chapter is also almost ready to be posted.**

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**Bound  
Fantasy**

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It is nothing more than a glimpse. Perhaps not even that. Just a sudden flash of brilliant emerald and soft rose. A pale hand with nails painted in glittering polish. The impression of a silk robe that might have the Uchiha fan emblazoned on her back. An expression marred by regret and twisted in pain.

He stands there frozen. By the time his sluggish mind can decipher what it is that he is seeing the dark curtain is swishing back into place. Just like that and she is gone.

Sasuke feels awkward. Foolish. Stupid. Exhaustion seeps in until his limbs feel much too heavy. _What a mess,_ he thinks. He wants to hold her and touch her soft hair. He wants to comfort her until the headache leaves her.

He can just see her…

* * *

Her long hair is a pink curtain that hides her face from him as he soundlessly opens the door. Although he can't see them he knows that her eyes are slightly glazed. Has she been crying? Are her eyes red and puffy? The number of disposable kerchiefs that are scattered haphazardly on a basket on the floor seems to suggest so. Her hands are clasped tightly in front of her, white knuckled and trembling, as she sits on the side of her bed. The dark blue robe bearing his family symbol hides most of her form from him. Sasuke doesn't move forward, still uncertain as to how to break the quiet. It is an uncertain sort of silence and he thinks that there is something peaceful about that.

Sakura shifts and raises her head slightly but he knows that she still can't see him through the curtain of hair. However, the slight raising of her head is enough for him to see the nightgown of crimson silk that she is wearing under her robe. His blood quickens just a little bit.

It is one of the few things that is from the land of her birth that she continues to use. Her reason is that it is from a favorite cousin of hers who is branded as a traitor—just as she now is. Sasuke still isn't sure which he wants to know—who this cousin is or what type of person would buy such a nightgown for a female relative.

He certainly would never have purchased such a thing for any of his cousins.

Still, although the origins of the night gown puzzle him as a husband, it is a garment that he greatly appreciates. He will need to reward the servant that packed it.

The neckline plunges to reveal just enough of the swell of her breasts to convince a man to pull at the lattice of thin straps that keep the flimsy gown secure on her shoulders.

Straps that are, conveniently enough, detachable.

It is a slinky, shapely piece that fits her slender form perfectly. This is one reason why he is so wary of this _cousin_ (he already has a list of interrogation tactics that he needs to run by Shikamaru for their possible use if he should meet the man). He likes the feel of that thin silk when he places his hand over her hip.

If this memory that makes Sasuke's breathing just a little more ragged and has him moving forward.

It isn't until he is right in front of her, touching her soft hair, that Sakura looks up. Her green eyes are wide and startled. There is an emotion lingering there that he can't identify and, he decides as he wraps the lock of hair of his finger, it is not one that he cares for.

"You shouldn't be so defenseless."

Her skin turns a bright pink and her eyes darken with the anger that she rarely shows him. She opens her mouth to say something—he finds himself strangely wanting her to yell at him—but all that comes out is a hitched breath as he tucks a lock of hair behind her ear. Her skin flushes darker when his hand lingers on the soft skin just underneath her ear lobe.

"I—"

Her voice trails off as he continues to look at her. Her expressions is weary, drained, and he feels a brief stab of guilt. Sasuke leans his face closer to hers until the barest distance of air is all that separates the two of them. His thumb shifts down to brush against her throat, just right over her pulse.

He can feel the blood beating, quicker and quicker as she stares up at him, but Sasuke is uncertain if it is hers or his. All he knows is that he just wants this fight to be over with. He wants her to apologize so that things can go back to the way they are supposed to be and they can enjoy the rest of their time at this villa, together, before they have to return home and he has to worry about Pansuke.

"Don't you have something to say to me?" He smirks when her green eyes flash once more with indignant anger. A simple flex of the fingers against her skin is all that is needed to make that anger fade and cause her breath to hitch again.

Sakura eyes flick down for her skin cannot possibly get any redder. They flick back up to meet his but it takes a moment before she is able to find the words.

"It was stupid. I shouldn't have—I'm sorry."

Male satisfaction and aniticaption heats his blood as he kisses her, a small reward for her concession.

When he pulls away her breathing is just a little bit faster, and Sasuke feels that it is time that he has made amends in his own way.

"Lay down."

Sakura's pink brow furrows in confusion at the obvious command. He nearly smirks when a little bit of that emerald fire enters her eyes.

"No."

The refusal is…surprising to say the least. Sasuke faintly increases the grip he has on her cheek and neck and places his other hand next to her on the bed. For a moment he just studies the pale skin that he is almost touching. Sakura's blush spreads down to her neck and he cant help but think that it is dreadfully endearing. Then he moves forward. It isn't until his mouth is brushing against hers—not kissing, just the slightest touch of his lips against her—that she flinches.

Sasuke moves the arm that is pressing against the bed and wraps it around his waist.

"I'll make the pain go away, Blossom."

"Blosso—"

He cuts her off before she even gets a chance to question him about the sudden endearment. Sasuke nips at her lower lip and relishes in the delicious way that she squirms against him as he pushes her down onto the bed. She doesn't try to fight the kiss.

Sakura reaches a hand up and it curls loosely around his wrist. He relishes in the warmth of the contact and holds her tighter. He nips and sucks at her bottom lip as he deepens the kiss.

Then she twists her hips just so.

Sasuke moans against her mouth and everything is just suddenly too much. His hands start to tear at her clothes and it is only her muffled protest that makes him pause. His hand is gripping the thin silk of the favored night gown, and his breath is harsh, ragged, against her neck as he tries to find some semblance of control.

That control is lost when Sakura shifts against him and reaches for—

* * *

Something wets hits him on the forehead and for the briefest of moments Sasuke is confused. He glances around, wondering where the hell Sakura has suddenly disappeared to and why he is suddenly outside and—

Why are there noodles on his shirt?

"Peeking on Sakura-chan, teme? And you call my father a pervert!"

Because of that brief, potent fantasy Sasuke finds himself feeling a little uncomfortable. Certainly he is in no mood to deal with Naruto.

"You know it might be better if you apologize to her first."

He narrows his eyes at his old friend. Apologize? _He_ isn't the one who has anything to apologize for.

Sasuke doesn't say any of this. He just scoff and turns away.

Both pride and Naruto's presence prevent him from turning around to see Sakura watching him through the window.

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**Because I have missed the fluff as much as you guys have. I need my other characters to get to the villa so that this emotional angst can be done already!**

**Sasuke-rin is making a big mistake if he thinks that she will just immediatly apologize when he can't even do the same, ne?  
**


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